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I  S  H  M  A  E  L 


OR 


IN      THE      DEPTHS 


BY 

MRS.     E.    D.    E.    N.    SOUTHWORTH 

Author  of  "Ishmacl,"   "The  Hidden  Hand," 
"The  Changed  Brides,"  etc.,  etc.,  etc. 


GROSSET    &    DUNLAP  Publishers 
Fifty-two    Daane    Street    New    York 


SRLr 
URL. 


^^    'bb^'y^^'^ 


PEEFACE. 


This  story,  in  book  form,  has  been  called  for  during  several 
years  past,  but  the  author  has  reserved  it  until  now;  not  only 
because  she  considers  it  to  be  her  very  best  work,  but  because 
it  is  peculiarly  a  national  novel,  being  founded  on  the  life  and 
career  of  one  of  the  noblest  of  our  countrymen,  who  really  lived, 
suffered,  toiled,  and  triumphed  in  this  land;  one  whose  inspira- 
tions of  wisdom  and  goodness  were  drawn  from  the  examples 
of  the  heroic  warriors  and  statesmen  of  the  Revolution,  and  who 
having  by  his  own  energy  risen  from  the  deepest  obscurity  to 
the  highest  fame,  became  in  himself  an  illustration  of  the  ele- 
vating influence  of  our  republican  institutions. 

"  In  the  Depths  "  he  was  bom  indeed — in  the  very  depths  of 
poverty,  misery,  and  humiliation.  But  through  Heaven's  bless- 
ing on  his  aspirations  and  endeavors,  he  raised  himself  to  the 
summit  of  fame. 

He  was  good  as  well  as  great.  His  goodness  won  the  love  of 
all  who  knew  him  intimately.  His  gi'eatness  gained  the  homage 
of  the  world.  He  became,  in  a  word,  one  of  the  brightest  stars 
in  Columbia's  diadem  of  light. 

His  identity  will  be  recognized  by  those  who  were  familiar 
with  his  early  personal  histoiy;  but  for  obvious  reasons  his 
real  name  must  be  veiled  under  a  fictitious  one  here. 

His  life  is  a  guiding-star  to  the  youth  of  every  land,  to  show 
them  that  there  is  no  depth  of  human  misery  from  which  they 
may  not,  by  virtue,  energy,  and  perseverance,  rise  to  earthly 
honors  as  well  as  to  eternal  glory. 

Emma  D.  E.  N.  Southworth. 
Prospect  Cottage, 

Georgetown,  D.  C. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAQB 

I.    The  Sisteks •••.! 

11.  Love  at  First  Sight,      .••...? 

III.  Passion 17 

IV.  The  Fatal  Deed, 3i 

V.  Love  and  Fate,        .,.,.,,  41 

YL    A  Secret  Revealed, 47 

YIL  Mother-  and  Daughter-in-layt,   ....  55 

VIII.  End  op  the  Secret  JVIarriage,     ....  68 

IX.    The  Victim, 75 

X.    The  Rivals, 84 

XL  The  Martyrs  op  Love,          .....  95 

XII.     Herman's  Story 103 

XIII.  The  Flight  of  Herman 108 

XIV.  Over  Nora's  Grave, 115 

XV.    Nora's  Son 120 

XVI.    The  Forsaken  Wife, 133 

XVII.    The  Countess  and  the  Child 140 

XVIII.    Berenice, 148 

XIX.    Nobody's  Son ,        •       .  156 

XX.    News  from  Herman 166 

XXI.    Ishmael's  Adventure, 176 

XXII.  Ishmael  Gains  His  First  Verdict,       .        ,        .183 

XXIII.  Ishmael's  Progress, 1C8 

XXIV.  Claudia  to  the  Rescue, 205 

XXV.  A  Turning  Point  in  Ishmael's  Life,    .        ,       .  212 

XXVI.  The  Fire  at  Brudenell  Hall,     .        .        .        .218 

XXVII.  Ishmael's  First  Step  on  the  Ladder,         .        .  227 

XXVIII.    Ishmael  and  Claudia, 242 

XXIX.    Young  Love, 250 

XXX.     Ishmael  and  Claudia, 257 

XXXI.  Ishmael  Hears  a  Secret  from  an  Enemy,         .  268 

XXXII.    At  His  Mother's  Grave, 275 

V 


VI 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  fAOK 

XXXIII.  Love  and  Genius,    ...•,,.  284 

XXXIV.  Under  the  Old  Elm  Tree,  ....  290 
XXXV.  The  Dream  and  the  Awakening,        ,        ,        .  293 

XXXVI.  Darkness,          ........  297 

XXXVII.    The  New  Home, 310 

XXXVIII.     Ishmael's  Struggles, 319 

XXXIX.     Ishmael  in  Tanglewood, 326 

XL.    The  Library 329 

XLI.     Claudia, 384 

XLII.     Ishmael  at  Tanglewood, 342 

XLIII.     The  Heiress, 351 

XLIV.     Claudia's  Perplexities, 356 

XLV.     The  Interview, 364 

XLVL    New  Life 374 

XL VII.    Rushy  Shore, 383 

XLVIII.     Onward, 389 

XLIX.    Still  Onward, 394 

L.    Claudia's  City  Home, 403 

LI.  Heiress  and  Beauty,       ....*.  410 

LII.  An  Evening  at  the  President's,         .       .       .  415 

LIII.    The  Viscount  Vincent, 423 

LIV.  Ishmael  at  the  Ball,    ......  431 

LV.    A  Step  Higher 437 

LVI.    Trial  and  Triumph, 458 

LVn.    The  Young  Champion, 469 

LVIII.    Herman  Brudenell, 475 

LIX.  First  Meeting  op  Father  and  Son,    .       .       .  480 

LX.    Herman  and  Hannah 482 

LXI.    Envy 488 

LXII.    Foiled  Malice, 498 

LXIII.    The  Bride-Elect 509 

LXIV.     Claudia's  Woe 514 

LXV.  Ishmael's  Woe,         ..•••••  522 

LXVI.  The  Marriage  Mornino,        •       •       •       •        .  528 

(uXVII.  Bee's  Handkebchibf,      ••••••  540 


ISHMAEL* 

OR, 

««I]^    THE    DEPTHS.'* 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  SISTERS. 

Bnt  if  thon  wilt  be  constant  then, 

And  faithful  of  thy  word, 
I'll  make  thee  glorious  by  my  pen 

And  famous  by  my  sword. 
I'll  serve  thee  in  such  noble  ways 

Was  never  heard  before; 
I'll  crown  and  deck  thee  all  with  bays, 

And  love  thee  evermore. 

— James  Grdham4 

"  Well,  If  there  be  any  truth  in  the  old  adage,  young  Herman 
Brudenell  will  have  a  prosperous  life ;  for  really  this  is  a  lovely 
day  for  the  middle  of  April — the  sky  is  just  as  sunny  and  the 
air  as  warm  as  if  it  were  June,"  said  Hannah  Worth,  looking 
out  from  the  door  of  her  hut  upon  a  scene  as  beautiful  as  ever 
shone  beneath  the  splendid  radiance  of  an  early  spring  morning. 

"And  what  is  that  old  adage  you  talk  of,  Hannah  ?  "  inquired 
her  younger  sister,  who  stood  braiding  the  locks  of  her  long 
black  hair  before  the  cracked  looking-glass  that  hung  abo\je  the 
rickety  chest  of  drawers. 

"Why,  la,  Nora,  don't  you  know?  The  adage  is  as  old  as 
the  hills  and  as  true  as  the  heavens,  and  it  is  this,  that  a 
man's  twenty-first  birthday  is  an  index  to  his  after  life: — if 
it  be  clear,  he  will  be  fortunate ;  if  cloudy,  unfortunate." 

"  Then  I  should  say  that  young  Mr.  Brudenell's  fortune  will 
be  a  splendid  one ;  for  the  sun  is  dazzling !  "  said  Nora,  as  she 
wound  the  long  sable  plait  of  hair  around  her  head  in  the  form 
of  a  natural  coronet,  and  secured  the  end  behind  with — a 
thorn !    "  And,  now,  how  do  I  look  ?    Aint  you  proud  of  me  ? " 


2  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  ITT   THE   DEPTHS. 

slie  archly  inquired,  turning  with  "  a  smile  of  conscious  beauty 
boi'n  "  to  the  inspection  of  her  elder  sistei*. 

That  sister  might  well  have  answered  in  the  affirmative  had 
she  considered  personal  beauty  a  merit  of  high  order;  for  few 
palaces  in  this  world  could  boast  a  princess  so  superbly  beauti- 
ful as  this  peasant  girl  that  this  poor  hut  contained.  Beneath 
those  rich  sable  tresses  was  a  high  broad  forehead  as  white  as 
snow;  slender  black  eyebrows  so  well  defined  and  so  perfectly 
arched  that  they  gave  a  singularly  open  and  elevated  character 
to  the  whole  countenance;  large  dark  gray  eyes,  full  of  light, 
softened  by  long,  sweeping  black  lashes ;  a  small,  straight  nose ; 
oval,  blooming  cheeks;  plump,  ruddy  lips  that,  slightly  parted, 
revealed  glimpses  of  the  little  pearly  teeth  within ;  a  well-turned 
chin ;  a  face  with  this  peculiarity,  that  when  she  was  pleased  it 
was  her  eyes  that  smiled  and  not  her  lips ;  a  face,  in  short,  full 
of  intelligence  and  feeling  that  might  become  thought  and  pas- 
sion. Her  form  was  noble — being  tall,  finely  proportioned,  and 
riclily  developed. 

Her  beauty  owed  nothing  to  her  toilet — her  only  decoration 
was  the  coronet  of  her  ovm  rich  black  hair;  her  only  hair  pin 
was  a  thorn;  her  dress  indeed  was  a  masterpiece  of  domestic 
manufacture, — the  cotton  from  which  it  was  made  having  been 
carded,  spun,  woven,  and  dyed  by  Miss  Hannah's  own  busy 
hands ;  but  as  it  was  only  a  coarse  blue  fabric,  after  all,  it  would 
not  be  considered  highly  ornaraental;  it  was  new  and  clean, 
however,  and  ISTora  was  well  pleased  with  it,  as  with  playful  im- 
patience she  repeated  her  question : 

"  Say !  aint  you  proud  of  me  now  ?  " 

"  JSTo,"  replied  the  elder  sister,  with  assumed  gravity ;  "  I  am 
proud  of  your  dress  because  it  is  my  own  handiwork,  and  it 
does  me  credit;  but  as  for  you " 

"  I  am  Nature's  handiwork,  and  I  do  her  credit !  "  interrupted 
Nora,  with  gay  self-assertion. 

"  I  am  quite  ashamed  of  you,  you  are  so  vain !  "  continued 
Hannah,  completing  her  sentence. 

"  Oh,  vain,  am  I?  Very  well,  then,  another  time  I  will  keep 
my  vanity  to  myself.  It  is  quite  as  easy  to  conceal  as  to  con- 
fess, you  know;  though  it  may  not  be  quite  as  good  for  the 
soul,"  exclaimed  Nora,  with  merry  perversity,  as  she  danced 
off  in  search  of  her  bonnet. 

She  had  not  far  to  look ;  for  the  one  poor  room  contained  all 
of  the  sisters'  earthly  goods.    And  they  were  easily  summed  up 


THE    SISTERS.  3 

—a  bed  in  one  corner,  a  loom  in  another,  a  spinning-wliocl  in 
tlie  third,  and  a  corner-cupboard  in  the  foui'th;  a  chest  of  draw- 
ers sat  against  the  wall  between  the  bed  and  the  loom,  and  a 
pine  table  against  the  opposite  wall  between  the  spinning-wheel 
and  the  cupboard;  four  wooden  chairs  sat  just  wherever  they 
could  be  crowded.  There  was  no  carpet  on  the  iloor,  no  paper 
on  the  walls.  There  was  but  one  door  and  one  window  to  the 
liut,  and  they  were  in  front.  Opposite  them  at  the  back  of  the 
room  was  a  wide  fire-place,  with  a  rude  mantle  shelf  above  it, 
adorned  with  old  brass  candlesticks  as  bright  as  gold.  Poor  as 
this  hut  was,  the  most  fastidious  fine  lady  need  not  have 
feared  to  sit  down  within  it ,  it  was  so  purely  clean. 

The  sisters  were  soon  ready,  and  after  closing  up  their  wee 
hut  as  cautiously  as  if  it  contained  the  wealth  of  India,  they  set 
forth,  in  their  blue  cotton  gowns  and  white  cotton  bonnets,  to 
attend  the  grand  birthday  festival  of  the  young  heir  of  Bru- 
deneli  Hall. 

Around  them  spread  out  a  fine,  rolling,  well- wooded  country; 
behind  them  stood  their  o^vn  little  hut  upon  the  top  of  its  bare 
hill;  below  them  lay  a  deep,  thickly-wooded  valley,  beyond 
which  rose  another  hill,  cro^vned  with  an  elegant  mansion  of 
white  free-stone.     That  was  Brudenell  Hall. 

Thus  the  hut  and  the  hall  perched  upon  opposite  hills,  looked 
eaeh  other  in  the  face  across  the  wooded  valley.  And  both  be- 
longed to  the  same  vast  plantation — the  largest  in  the  county. 
The  morning  Avas  indeed  delicious,  the  earth  everywhere  spring- 
ing with  young  grass  and  early  flowers ;  the  forest  budding  with 
tender  leaves;  the  freed  brooks  singing  as  they  ran;  the  birds 
darting  alwut  here  and  there  seeking  materials  to  build  their 
nests;  the  heavens  benignly  smiling  over  all;  the  sun  glorious; 
the  air  intoxicating;  mere  breath  joy;  mere  life  rapture!  All 
nature  singing  a  Gloria  in  Excelsis !  And  now  while  the  sis- 
ters saunter  leisurely  on,  pausing  now  and  then  to  admire  some 
exquisite  bit  of  scenery,  or  to  watch  some  bird,  or  to  look  at 
some  flower,  taking  their  own  time  for  passing  through  the  val- 
ley that  lay  between  the  hut  and  the  hall,  I  must  tell  you  v/ho 
and  what  they  were. 

Hannah  and  Leonora  Worth  were  orphans,  living  alone  to- 
gether in  the  hut  on  the  hill  and  supporting  themselves  by 
spinning  and  weaving. 

Hannah,  the  eldest,  was  but  twenty-eight  years  old,  yet 
looked  forty;  for,  having  been  the  eldest  sister,  the  mother- 


4  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

sister,  of  a  large  family  of  orphan  children,  all  of  whom  had 
died  except  the  youngest,  Leonora, — her  face  wore  that  anxious, 
haggard,  care-worn  and  prematurely  aged  look  peculiar  to 
women  who  have  the  burdens  of  life  too  soon  and  too  heavily 
laid  upon  them.  Her  black  hair  was  even  streaked  here  and 
there  with  gray.  But  with  all  this  there  was  not  the  least  trace 
of  impatience  or  despondency  in  that  all-enduring  face.  When 
grave,  its  expression  was  that  of  resignation;  when  gay — and 
even  she  could  be  gay  at  times — its  smile  was  as  sunny  as 
Leonora's  own.  Hannah  had  a  lover  as  patient  as  Job,  or  as 
herself,  a  poor  fellow  who  had  been  constant  to  her  for  twelve 
years,  and  whose  fate  resembled  her  oAvn ;  for  he  was  the  father 
of  all  his  oi-phan  brothers  and  sisters  as  she  had  been  the  mother 
of  hers.  Of  course,  these  poor  lovers  could  not  dream  of  mar- 
riage; but  they  loved  each  other  all  the  better  upon  that  very 
account,  perhaps. 

Lenora  was  ten  years  younger  than  her  sister,  eighteen,  well 
grown,  well  developed,  blooming,  beautiful,  gay  and  happy  as 
we  have  described  her.  She  had  not  a  care,  or  regret,  or  sor- 
row in  the  world.  She  was  a  bird,  the  hut  was  her  nest  and 
Hannah  her  mother,  whose  wings  covered  her.  These  sisters 
were  very  poor;  not,  however,  as  the  phrase  is  understood  in 
the  large  cities,  where,  notwithstanding  the  many  charitable 
institutions  for  the  mitigation  of  poverty,  scores  of  people 
perish  annually  from  cold  and  hunger;  but  as  it  is  understood 
in  the  rich  lower  counties  of  Maryland,  where  forests  filled 
with  game  and  rivers  swarming  with  fish  afford  abundance  of 
food  and  fuel  to  even  the  poorest  hutters,  however  destitute 
they  might  be  of  proper  shelter,  clothing,  or  education. 

And  though  these  orphan  sisters  could  not  hunt  or  fish,  they 
could  buy  cheaply  a  plenty  of  game  from  the  negroes  who  did. 
And  besides  this,  they  had  a  pig,  a  cow,  and  a  couple  of  sheep 
that  grazed  freely  in  the  neighboring  fields,  for  no  one  thought 
of  turning  out  an  animal  that  belonged  to  these  poor  girls.  In 
addition,  they  kept  a  few  fowls  and  cultivated  a  small  vege- 
table garden  in  the  rear  of  their  hut.  And  to  keep  the  chickens 
out  of  the  garden  was  one  of  the  principal  occupations  of  Nora. 
Their  spinning-wheel  and  loom  supplied  them  with  the  few 
articles  of  clothing  they  required,  and  with  a  little  money  for 
the  purchase  of  tea,  sugar,  and  salt.  Thus  you  see  their  liv- 
ing was  good,  though  their  dress,  their  house,  and  their  school- 
ing were  so  very  bad.     They  were  totally  ignorant  of  the  world 


LOVE    AT   FIRST   SIGHT.  5 

beyond  their  own  neighborhood;  tliey  could  read  and  write, 
but  very  imperfectly;  and  their  only  book  was  the  old  family 
Bible,  that  might  always  be  seen  proudly  displayed  upon  the 
rickety  chest  of  drawers. 

Notwithstanding  their  lowly  condition,  the  sistei*s  were  much 
esteemed  for  their  integrity  of  character  by  their  richer  neigh- 
bors, who  would  have  gladly  made  them  more  comfortable  had 
had  not  the  proud  spirit  of  Hannah  shrunk  from  dependence. 

They  had  been  invited  to  the  festival  to  be  held  at  Brudenell 
Hall  in  honor  of  the  young  heir's  coming  of  age  and  entering 
upon  his  estates. 

This  gentlemen,  Herman  Brudenell,  was  their  landlord;  and 
it  was  as  his  tenants,  and  not  by  any  means  as  his  equals,  that 
they  had  been  bidden  to  the  feast.  And  now  we  will  ac- 
company them  to  the  house  of  rejoicing.  They  were  now 
emerging  from  the  valley  and  climbing  the  opposite  hill.  Han- 
nah walking  steadily  on  in  the  calm  enjoyment  of  nature,  and 
ISTora  darting  about  like  a  young  bird  and  caroling  as  she  went 
in  the  effervescence  of  her  delight. 


CHAPTEE  n. 

LOVE  AT  FIRST  SIGHT. 

Her  sweet  song  died,  and  a  vague  tinrest 
And  a  nameless  longing  tilled  her  breast. 

—  Whittier, 

The  sisters  had  not  seen  their  yotmg  landlord  since  he  was 
a  lad  of  ten  years  of  age,  at  which  epoch  he  had  been  sent  to 
Euroi>e  to  receive  his  education.  He  had  but  recently  been 
recalled  home  by  his  widowed  mother,  for  the  purpose  of  en- 
tering upon  his  estate  and  celebrating  his  majority  in  his  patri- 
monial mansion  by  giving  a  dinner  and  ball  in  the  house  to 
all  his  kindred  and  friends,  and  a  feast  and  dance  in  the  bam 
to  all  his  tenants  and  laborers. 

It  was  said  that  his  lady  mother  and  his  two  young  lady  sis- 
ters, haughty  and  repellent  women  that  they  were,  had  objected 
to  entertaining  his  dependents,  but  the  young  gentleman  was 
resolved  that  they  should  enjoy  themselves.  And  he  had  his 
way. 

Nona  had  no  recollection  whatever  of  Herman  Brudenell,  who 


6  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

had  been  taken  to  Europe  while  she  was  still  a  baby;  so  now, 
her  curiosity  being  stimulated,  she  plied  Hannah  with  a  score 
of  tiresome  questions  about  him. 

"  Is  he  tall,  Hannah,  dear  ?    Is  he  very  handsome  ?  " 

"  How  can  I  tell  ?  I  have  not  seen  him  since  he  was  ten  years 
old." 

"But  what  is  his  complexion — is  he  fair  or  dark?  and  what 
is  the  color  of  his  hair  and  eyes?  Surely,  you  can  tell  that  at 
least." 

"  Yes ;  his  complexion,  as  well  as  I  can  recollect  it,  was 
freckled,  and  his  hair  sandy,  and  his  eyes  green." 

"  Oh-h !  the  horrid  fright !  a  man  to  scare  bad  children  into 
good  behavior !  But  then  that  was  when  he  was  but  ten  years 
old;  he  is  twenty-one  to-day;  perhaps  he  is  much  improved." 

"  Nora,  our  sheep  have  passed  through  here,  and  left  some 
of  their  wool  on  the  bushes.  Look  at  that  little  bird,  it  has 
found  a  flake  and  is  bearing  it  off  in  triumph  to  line  its  little 
nest,"  said  Hannah,  to  change  the  subject. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  care  about  the  bird ;  I  wish  you  to  tell  me  about 
the  young  gentleman ! "  said  Nora  petulantly,  adding  the 
question :  "  I  wonder  who  he'll  marry  ?  " 

"  Not  you,  my  dear ;  so  you  had  better  not  occupy  your  mind 
■with  him,"  Hannah  replied  very  gravely. 

Nora  laughed  outright.  "  Oh,  I'm  quite  aware  of  that ;  and 
as  for  me,  I  would  not  marry  a  prince,  if  he  had  red  hair  and  a 
freckled  face;  but  still  one  cannot  help  thinking  of  one's  land- 
lord, when  one  is  going  to  attend  the  celebration  of  his  birth- 
day." 

They  had  now  reached  the  top  of  the  hill  and  come  upon  a 
full  view  of  the  house  and  grounds. 

The  house,  as  I  said,  v/as  a  veiy  elegant  edifice  of  white  free- 
stone; it  was  two  stories  in  height,  and  had  airy  piazzas  run- 
ning the  whole  length  of  the  front,  both  above  and  below;  a 
stately  portico  occupied  the  center  of  the  lower  piazza,  having 
on  each  side  of  it  the  tall  windows  of  the  drawing-rooms.  This 
portico  and  all  these  windows  were  now  wide  open,  mutely 
proclaiming  welcome  to  all  comers.  The  beautifully  laid  out 
grounds  were  studded  here  and  there  with  tents  pitched  under 
the  shade  trees,  for  the  accommodation  of  the  out-door  guests, 
"who  were  now  assembling  rapidly. 

But  the  more  honored  guests  of  the  house  had  net  yet  be- 
gun to  arrive. 


LOVE    AT   FIRST   SIGHT.  7 

!A.nd  none  of  the  family  were  as  yet  visible. 

On  reaching  the  premises  the  sisters  were  really  embarrassed, 
not  knowing  where  to  go,  and  finding  no  one  to  direct  them. 

A  length  a  strange  figure  appeared  upon  the  scene — a  dwarf- 
ish mulatto,  with  a  large  head,  bushy  hair,  and  having  the 
broad  forehead  and  high  nose  of  the  European,  with  the  thick 
lips  and  heavy  jaws  of  the  African;  with  an  ashen  gray  com- 
plexion, and  a  penetrating,  keen  and  sly  expression  of  the  eyes. 
With  this  strange  combination  of  features  he  had  also  the 
European  intellect  with  the  African  utterance.  He  was  a  very 
gifted  original,  whose  singularities  of  genius  and  character 
will  reveal  themselves  in  the  course  of  this  history,  and  he  was* 
also  one  of  those  favored  old  family  domestics  whose  power  in 
the  house  was  second  only  to  that  of  the  master,  and  whose 
will  was  law  to  all  his  fellow  servants;  he  had  just  completed 
his  fiftieth  year,  and  his  name  was  Jovial. 

And  he  now  approached  the  sisters,  saying: 

"  Mornin',  Miss  Hannah — mornin'.  Miss  Nora.  Come  to  see 
de  show?  De  young  heir  hab  a  fool  for  his  master  for  de  fust 
time  to-day." 

"  We  have  come  to  the  birthday  celebration ;  but  we  do  not 
know  where  we  ought  to  go — whether  to  the  house  or  the  tents," 
said  Hannah. 

The  man  tucked  his  tongue  into  his  cheek  and  squinted  at 
the  sisters,  muttering  to  himself : 

"  I  should  like  to  see  de  mist'ess'  face,  ef  you  two  was  to  pre- 
sent yourselves  at  de  house !  " 

Then,  speaking  aloud,  he  said: 

"De  house  be  for  de  quality,  an'  de  tents  for  de  colored 
gemmen  and  ladies;  an'  de  barn  for  de  laborin'  classes  ob  de 
whites.     Shall  I  hab  de  honor  to  denounce  you  to  de  barn  ?  " 

"  I  thank  you,  yes,  since  it  is  there  we  are  expected  to  go," 
said  Hannah. 

Jovial  led  the  way  to  an  immense  bara  that  had  been  cleaned 
out  and  decorated  for  the  occasion.  The  vast  room  was  adorned 
with  festoons  of  evergreens  and  paper  flowers.  At  the  upper 
end  was  hung  the  arms  of  the  Brudenells.  Benches  were  placed 
along  the  walls  for  the  accommodation  of  those  who  might 
wish  to  sit.     The  floor  was  chalked  for  the  dancers. 

"  Here,  young  women,  dere  you  is,"  said  Jovial  loftily,  as  he 
introduced  the  sisters  into  this  room,  and  retired. 

There  were  some  thirty-five  or  forty  persons  present,  including 


6  iSHivrAEL ;  OE,  iTsr  the  D2;pths. 

men,  women,  and  children,  but  no  one  that  was  known  to  the 
sisters.  They  therefore  took  seats  in  a  retired  corner,  from 
which  they  watched  the  company. 

"How  many  people  there  are!  Where  could  they  all  have 
come  from  ? "  inquired  IsTora, 

"  I  do  not  know.  From  a  distance,  I  suppose.  People  will 
come  a  long  way  to  a  feast  like  this.  And  you  know  that  not 
only  were  the  tenants  and  laborers  invited,  but  they  were  asked 
to  bring  all  their  friends  and  relations  as  well !  "  said  Hannah. 

"And  they  seemed  to  have  improved  the  opportunity," 
added  Nora. 

"Hush,  my  dear;  I  do  believe  here  come  Mr.  Brudenell  and 
the  ladies,"  said  Hannah. 

And  even  as  she  spoke  the  great  doors  of  the  barn  were  thrown 
open,  and  the  young  landlord  and  his  family  entered. 

First  came  Mr.  Brudenell,  a  young  gentleman  of  medium 
height,  and  elegantly  rather  than  strongly  built;  his  features 
were  regular  and  delicate;  his  complexion  fair  and  clear;  his 
hair  of  a  pale,  soft,  golden  tint;  and  in  contrast  to  all  this,  his 
eyes  were  of  a  deep,  dark,  burning  brown,  full  of  fire,  passion, 
and  fascination.  There  was  no  doubt  about  it — he  was  beauti- 
ful! I  know  that  is  a  strange  term  to  apply  to  a  man,  but  it 
is  the  only  true  and  comprehensive  one  to  characterize  the 
personal  appearance  of  Herman  Brudenell.  He  was  attired 
in  a  neat  black  dress  suit,  without  ornaments  of  any  kind; 
without  even  a  breastpin  or  a  watch  chain. 

Upon  his  arm  leaned  his  mother,  a  tall,  fair  woman  with  light 
hair,  light  blue  eyes,  high  aquiline  features,  and  a  haughty 
air.  She  wore  a  rich  gray  moire  antique,  and  a  fine  lace 
cap. 

Behind  them  came  the  two  young  lady  sisters,  so  like  their 
mother  that  no  one  could  have  mistaken  them.  They  wore 
Vvdiite  muslin  dresses,  sashes  of  blue  ribbon,  and  wreaths  of  blue 
harebells.  They  advanced  with  smiles  intended  to  be  gracious, 
but  which  were  only  condescending. 

The  eyes  of  all  the  people  in  the  barn  were  fixed  upon  this 
party,  except  those  of  jSTora  Worth,  which  were  riveted  upon 
the  young  heir. 

And  this  was  destiny! 

There  was  nothing  unmaidenly  in  her  regard.  She  looked 
■upon  him  as  a  peasant  girl  might  look  upon  a  passing  prince — 
as  something  grand,  glorious,  sunlike,  and  ircuneasurably  above 


LOVE   AT   FIRST   SIGHT.  9 

her  sphere;  but  not  as  a  human  being,  not  as  a  young  man 
precisely  like  other  young  men. 

While  thus,  with  fresh  lips  glowingly  apart,  and  blushing 
cheeks,  and  eyes  full  of  innocent  admiration,  she  gazed  upon 
him,  he  suddenly  turned  around,  and  their  eyes  met  full.  He 
smiled  sweetly,  bowed  lowly,  and  turned  slowly  away.  And  she, 
with  childlike  delight,  seized  her  sister's  arm  and  exclaimed : 

"  Oh,  Hannah,  the  young  heir  bowed  to  me,  he  did  indeed !  " 

"  He  could  do  no  less,  since  you  looked  at  him  so  hard,"  re- 
plied the  sister   gravely. 

"  But  to  me,  Hannah,  to  me — just  think  of  it !  !N'o  one  ever 
bowed  to  me  before,  not  even  the  negroes !  and  to  think  of  him — 
Mr.  Brudenell — bowing  to  me — me !  " 

"  I  tell  you  he  could  do  no  less ;  he  caught  you  looking  at 
him ;  to  have  continiied  staring  you  in  the  face  would  have  been 
rude;  to  have  turned  abruptly  away  would  have  been  equally 
so;  gentlemen  ai'e  never  guilty  of  rudeness,  and  Mr.  Brudenell 
is  a  gentleman ;  therefore  he  bowed  to  you,  as  I  believe  he  would 
have  bowed  to  a  colored  girl  even." 

"  Oh,  but  he  smiled !  he  smiled  so  warmly  and  brightly,  just 
for  all  the  world  like  the  sun  shining  out,  and  as  if,  as  if " 

"  As  if  what,  you  little  goose  ?  " 

"  Well,  then,  as  if  he  was  pleased." 

"It  was  because  he  was  amused;  he  was  laughing  at  you, 
you  silly  child !  " 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  "  asked  ISTora,  with  a  sudden  change  of  tone 
from  gay  to  grave.   ■ 

"  I  am  quite  sure  of  it,  dear,"  replied  the  elder  sister,  speaking 
her  real  opinion. 

"  Laughing  at  me,"  repeated  Nora  to  herself,  and  she  fell  into 
thought. 

Meanwhile,  with  a  nod  to  one  a  smile  to  another  and  a  word 
to  a  third,  the  young  heir  and  his  party  passed  dov«m  the  whole 
length  of  the  room,  and  retired  through  an  upper  door.  As 
soon  as  they  were  gone  the  negro  fiddlers,  six  in  number,  led 
by  Jovial,  entered,  took  their  seats,  tuned  their  instruments, 
and  struck  up  a  lively  reel. 

There  was  an  immediate  stir;  the  rustic  beaus  sought  their 
belles,  and  sets  were  quickly  formed. 

A  long,  lanky,  stooping  young  man,  with  a  pale,  care-worn 
face  and  grayish  hair,  and  dressed  in  a  homespun  jacket  and 
trousers,  came  up  to  the  sisters. 


10  ishmael;  ok,  in  the  depths. 

"  Dance,  Hannah  ?  "  lie  inquired. 

"  No,  thank  5X)u,  Keuben ;  take  'Nora  out — she  would  like 
to." 

"  Dance,  Nora  ?  "  said  Eeuben  Gray,  turning  obediently  to  the 
younger  sister. 

"  Set  you  up  with  it,  after  asking  Hannah  first,  right  before 
my  very  eyes.  I'm  not  a-going  to  take  anybody's  cast-offs,  Mr. 
Eeuben!" 

"  I  hope  you  are  not  angry  with  me  for  that,  Nora  ?  It  was 
natural  I  should  prefer  to  dance  with  your  sister.  I  belong 
to  her  like,  you  know.  Don't  be  mad  with  me,"  said  Reuben 
meekly. 

"Nonsense,  Rue!  you  know  I  was  joking.  Make  Hannah 
dance ;  it  will  do  her  good ;  she  mopes  too  much,"  laughed  Nora. 

"  Do,  Harinah,  do,  dear;  you  know  I  can't  enjoy  myself  other- 
ways,"  said  the  docile  fellow. 

"  And  it  is  little  enjoyment  you  have  in  this  world,  poor 
soul !  "  said  Hannah  Worth,  as  she  rose  and  placed  her  hand 
in  his. 

"  Ah,  but  I  have  a  great  deal,  Hannah,  dear,  when  I'm  along 
o'  you,"  he  whispered  gallantly,  as  he  led  her  off  to  join  the 
dancers. 

And  they  were  soon  seen  tritting,  whirling,  heying,  and  sell- 
ing with  the  best  of  them — forgetting  in  the  contagious  merri- 
ment of  the  music  and  motion   all  their  cares. 

Nora  was  besieged  with  admirers,  who  solicited  her  hand  for 
the  dance.  But  to  one  and  all  she  returned  a  negative.  She 
was  tired  with  her  long  walk,  and  would  not  dance,  at  least 
not  this  set;  she  preferred  to  sit  still  and  watch  the  others. 
So  at  last  she  was  left  to  her  chosen  occupation.  She  had  sat 
thus  but  a  few  moments,  her  eyes  lovingly  following  the  flying 
forms  of  Eeuben  and  Hannah  through  the  mazes  of  the  dance, 
her  heart  rejoicing  in  their  joy,  when  a  soft  voice  murmured 
at  her  ear. 

"  Sitting  quite  alone,  Nora  ?  How  is  that  ?  The  young  men 
have  not  lost  their  wits,  I  hope?" 

She  started,  looked  up,  and  with  a  vivid  blush  recognized 
her  young  landlord.  He  was  bending  over  her  with  the  same 
sweet  ingenuous  smile  that  had  greeted  her  when  their  eyes 
first  met  that  morning.  She  drooped  the  long,  dark  lashes 
over  her  eyes  until  they  swept  her  carmine  cheeks,  but  she  did 
not  answer. 


LOVE   AT   FIEST   SIGHT.  11 

"  I  Lave  just  deposited  my  mother  and  sisters  in  their  draw- 
ing-room, and  I  have  returned  to  look  at  the  dancers.  May  I 
take  this  seat  left  vacant  by  your  sister  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Certainly  you  may,  sir,"  she  faltered  forth,  trembling  with 
a  vague  delight. 

"  How  much  they  enjoy  themselves — do  they  not?  "  he  asked, 
as  he  took  the  seat  and  looked  upon  the  dancers  with  a  benevo- 
lent delight  that  irradiated  his  fair,  youthful  countenance. 

"  Oh,  indeed  they  do,  sir,"  said  Nora,  unconsciously  speak- 
ing more  from  her  own  personal  experience  of  present  happi- 
ness than  from  her  observation  of  others. 

"  I  wish  I  could  arrive  at  my  majority  every  few  weeks,  or  else 
have  some  other  good  excuse  for  giving  a  great  feast.  I  do  so 
love  to  see  people  happy,  Nora,  It  is  the  greatest  pleasure  I 
have  in  the  world." 

"  Yet  you  must  have  a  great  many  other  pleasures,  sir ;  all 
wealthy  people  must,"  said  Nora,  gaining  courage  to  converse 
with  one  so  amiable  as  she  found  her  young  landlord. 

"  Yes,  I  have  many  others ;  but  the  greatest  of  all  is  the 
happiness  of  making  others  happy.  But  why  are  you  not  among 
these  dancers,  Nora  ? " 

"  I  was  tired  with  my  long  walk  up  and  down  hill  and  dale. 
So  I  would  not  join  them  this  set." 

"  Are  you  engaged  for  the  next  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Then  be  my  partner  for  it,  will  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  sir !  "  And  the  girl's  truthf vd  face  flashed  with  sur- 
prise and  delight. 

"  Will  you  dance  with  me,  then,  for  the  next  set  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir,  please." 

"  Thank  you,  Nora.  But  now  tell  me,  did  you  recollect  me 
as  well  as  I  remembered  you  ? " 

"No,  sir." 

"But  that  is  strange;  for  I  knew  you  again  the  instant  I 
saw  you." 

"But,  sir,  you  know  I  was  but  a  baby  when  you  went 
away  ? " 

"  That  is  true." 

"  But  how,  then,  did  you  know  me  again  ? "  she  wonderingly 
inquired. 

"  Easily  enough.  Though  you  have  grown  up  into  such  a 
fine  young  woman,  your  face  has  not  changed  its  character, 


12  ISHMAEL  ;    OK,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

Nora.  You  Lave  the  same  broad,  fair  forehead  aiid  arched  brows ; 
the  same  dark  gray  eyes  and  long  lashes;  the  same  delicate 
nose  and  budding  mouth;  and  the  same  peculiar  way  of  smiling 
only  with  your  eyes;  in  a  word — but  pardon  me,  Nora,  I  for- 
got myself  in  speaking  to  you  so  plainly.  Here  is  a  new  set 
forming  already.  Your  sister  aud  her  partner  are  going  to 
dance  together  again;  shall  we  join  them?"  he  suddenly  in- 
quired, upon  seeing  that  his  direct  praise,  in  which  he  had 
spoken  in  ingenuous  frankness,  had  brought  the  bl\ashes  again 
to  Nora's  cheeks. 

She  arose  and  gave  him  her  hand,  and  he  led  her  forth  to  the 
head  of  the  set  that  was  now  forming,  where  she  stood  with 
downcast  and  blushing  face,  admired  by  all  the  men,  and  envied 
by  all  the  women  that  were  present. 

This  was  not  the  only  time  he  danced  with  her.     He  was 
cordial  to  all  his  guests,  but  he  devoted  himself  to  Nora.    This 
exclusive  attention  of  the  young  heir  to  the  poor  maiden  gave 
anxiety  to  her  sister  and  offense  to  all  the  other  women. 
"  No  good  will  come  of  it,"  said  one. 

"  No  good  ever  does  come  of  a  rich  young  man  paying  atten- 
tion to  a  poor  girl,"  added  another. 

"  He  is  making  a  perfect  fool  jf  himself,"  said  a  third  in- 
dignantly. 

"  He  is  making  a  perfect  fool  of  her,  you  had  better  say," 
amended  a  fourth,  more  malignant  than  the  rest. 

"Hannah,  I  don't  like  it!  I'm  a  sort  of  elder  brother-in- 
law  to  her,  you  know,  and  I  don't  like  it.  Just  see  how  he  looks 
at  her,  Hanaah!  Why,  if  I  was  to  melt  down  my  heart  and 
pour  it  all  into  my  face,  I  coiddn't  look  at  you  that-a-way, 
Hannah,  true  as  I  love  you.  Why,  he's  just  eating  of  her  up 
with  his  eyes,  and  as  for  her,  she  looks  as  if  it  was  pleasant 
to  be  swallowed  by  him !  "  said  honest  Eeuben  Gray,  as  he 
watched  the  ill-matched  yovmg  pair  as  they  sat  absorbed  in 
each  other's  society  in  a  remote  corner  of  the  bam. 
"Nor  do  I  like  it,  Eeuben,"  sighed  Hannah. 
"  I've  a  great  mind  to  interfere !  I've  a  right  to !  I'm  her 
brother-in-law  to  be." 

"No,  do  not,  Eeuben;  it  would  do  more  harm  than  good; 
it  would  make  her  and  everybody  else  think  more  seriously  of 
these  attentions  than  they  deserve.  It  is  only  for  to-night, 
you  know.  After  this,  they  wiU  scarcely  ever  meet  to  speak 
to  each  other  again." 


lOVE   AT   FIRST    SIGHT.  13 

"As  you  please,  Ilaimali,  you  are  wiser  than  I  am;  but  still, 
dear,  I  must  say  that  a  ^eat  deal  of  harm  may  be  done  in  a  day. 
Remember,  dear,  that  (though  I  don't  call  it  harm,  but  the 
greatest  blessing  of  my  life)  it  was  at  a  corn-shucking,  where 
we  met  for  tlie  fust  time,  that  you  and  I  fell  in  love  long  of 
each  other,  and  have  we  ever  fell  out  of  it  yet?  No,  Hannah, 
nor  never  will.  But  as  you  and  I  ai-e  both  poor,  and  faithful, 
and  patient,  and  broken  in  like  to  bear  things  cheerful,  no  harm 
has  come  of  our  falling  in  love  at  tJiat  corn-shucking.  But 
now,  s'pose  them  there  children  fall  in  love  long  of  each  other 
by.  looking  into  each  other's  pretty  eyes — who's  to  hinder  it? 
And  that  will  be  the  end  of  it?  He  can't  marry  her;  that's 
impossible;  a  man  of  his  rank  and  a  girl  of  hers!  his  mother 
and  sisters  would  never  let  him!  and  if  they  would,  his  own 
pride  wouldn't!  And  so  he'd  go  away  and  try  to  forget  her, 
and  she'd  stop  home  and  break  her  heart.  Hannah,  love  is 
like  a  fire,  easy  to  put  out  in  the  begimiing,  unpossible  at  the 
end.  You  just  better  let  me  go  and  heave  a  bucket  of  water 
on  to  that  there  love  while  it  is  a-kindling  and  before  the  blaze 
brealis  out." 

"  Go  then,  good  Reuben,  and  tell  ISTora  that  I  am  going  home 
and  wish  her  to  come  to  me  at  once." 

Reuben  arose  to  obey,  but  was  interrupted  by  the  appearance 
of  a  negro  footman  from  tlie  house,  who  came  up  to  him  and 
said: 

"  Mr.  Reuben,  de  mistess  say  will  you  say  to  de  young  marster 
how  de  geromen  an'  ladies  is  all  arrive,  an'  de  dinner  will  be 
saiwe  in  ten  minutes,  an'  how  she  'sires  his  presence  at  de  house 
immediate." 

"  Certainly,  John !  This  is  better,  Hannah,  than  my  inter- 
ference would  have  been,"  said  Reuben  Gray,  as  he  hurried  off 
to  execute  his  mission. 

So  completely  absorbed  in  each  other's  conversation  were 
the  young  pair  that  they  did  not  observe  Reuben's  approach 
until  he  stood  before  them,  and,  touching  his  forehead,  said 
respectfully : 

"  Sir,  Madam  Brudenell  has  sent  word  as  the  vis'ters  be  all 
arrived  at  the  house,  and  the  dinner  will  be  ready  in  ten  min- 
utes, so  she  wishes  you,  if  you  please,  to  come  directly." 

"  So  late !  "  exclaimed  the  young  man,  looking  at  his  watch, 
and  starting  up,  "  how  time  flies  in  some  society !  Nora,  I  will 
conduct  you  to  your  sister,  and  then  go  and  welcome  our  guests 


14  ishmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

at  the  house;  although  I  had  a  great  deal  rather  stay  where  I 
am,"  he  added,  in  a  whisper. 

"  If  you  please,  sir,  I  can  tal^e  her  to  Hannah,"  suggested 
Reuben. 

But  without  paying  any  attention  to  this  friendly  offer,  the 
young  man  gave  his  hand  to  the  maiden  and  led  her  down  the 
whole  length  of  the  barn,  followed  by  Eeuben,  and  also  by  the 
envior:;  eyes  of  all  the  assembly. 

"Here  she  is,  Hannah.  I  have  brought  her  back  to  you 
quite  safe,  not  even  weaiy  with  dancing.  I  hope  I  have  helped 
her  to  enjoy  herself,"  said  the  young  heir  gayly,  as  he  deposited 
the  rustic  beauty  by  the  side  of  her  sister. 

"  You  are  very  kind,  sir,"  said  Hannah    coldly. 

"  Ah,  you  there,  Eeuben !  Be  sure  you  take  good  care  of 
tliis  little  girl,  and  see  that  she  has  plenty  of  pleasant  partners," 
said  the  young  gentleman,  on  seeing  Gray  behind. 

"  Be  sure  I  shall  take  care  of  her,  sir,  as  if  she  was  my  sister, 
as  I  hope  some  day  she  may  be,"  replied  the  man. 

"And  be  careful  that  she  gets  a  good  place  at  the  supper- 
table — there  will  be  a  inish,  you  know." 

"I  shall  see  to  that,  sir." 

"  Good  evening,  Hannah ;  good  evening,  Nora,"  said  the 
young  heir,  smiling  and  bowing  as  he  withdrew  from  the  sisters. 

Nora  sighed ;  it  might  have  been  from  fatigue.  Several  coun- 
try beans  approached,  eagerly  contending,  now  that  the  coast 
was  clear,  for  the  honor  of  the  beauty's  hand  in  the  dance.  But 
Nora  refused  one  and  all.  She  should  dance  no  more  this  even- 
ing, she  said.  Supper  came  on,  and  Eeuben,  with  one  sister  on 
each  arm,  led  them  out  to  the  great  tent  where  it  was  spread. 
There  was  a  rush-  The  room  was  full  and  the  table  was  crowded ; 
but  Eeuben  made  good  places  for  the  sisters,  and  stood  behind 
their  chairs  to  wait  on  them.  Hannah,  like  a  happy,  working, 
practical  young  woman  in  good  health,  who  had  earned  an 
appetite,  did  ample  justice  to  the  luxuries  placed  before  them. 
Nora  ate  next  to  nothing.  In  vain  Hannah  and  Eeuben  offered 
everything  to  her  in  turn;  she  would  take  nothing.  She  was 
not  hungry,  she  said;  she  was  ti^ed  and  wanted  to  go  home. 

"  But  wouldn't  you  rather  stay  and  see  the  fireworks,  Nora  ?  " 
inquired  Eeuben  Gray,  as  they  arose  from  the  table  to  give  place 
to  someone  else. 

"  I  don't  know.  Will — ^will  Mr. — I  mean  Mrs.  Brudenell  and 
the  young  ladies  come  out  to  see  them,  do  you  think  ?  " 


LOVE   AT   FIRST   SIGHT.  15 

""No,  certainly,  they  will  not;  these  delicate  creatures  would 
never  stand  outside  in  the  night  air  for  that  purpose." 

"  I — I  don't  think  I  cai'e  about  stopping  to  see  the  fireworks, 
Eeuben,"  said  Nora. 

"  But  I  tell  you  what,  John  said  how  the  young  heir,  the  old 
madam,  the  young  ladies,  and  the  quality  folks  was  all  a-going 
to  see  the  fireworks  from  the  upper  piazza.  They  have  got  all 
the  red-cushioned  settees  and  ama-chairs  put  out  there  for  them 
to  sit  on." 

"  Eeuben,  I — I  think  I  will  stop  and  see  the  fireworks ;  that 
is,  if  Haruiah  is  willing,"  said  Nora   musingly. 

And  so  it  was  settled. 

The  rustics,  after  having  demolished  the  whole  of  the  plenti- 
ful supper,  leaving  scarcely  a  bono  or  a  crust  behind  them, 
rushed  out  in  a  body,  all  the  worse  for  a  cask  of  old  rye  whisky 
that  had  been  broached,  and  began  to  search  for  eligible  stands 
from  which  to  witness  the  exhibition  of  the  evening. 

Reuben  conducted  the  sisters  to  a  high  knoll  at  some  dis- 
tance from  the  disorderly  crowd,  but  from  which  they  could 
command  a  fine  view  of  the  fireworks,  which  were  to  be  let  off 
in  the  lawn  that  lay  below  their  standpoint  and  between  them 
and  the  front  of  the  dwelling-house.  Here  they  sat  as  the 
evening  closed  in.  As  soon  as  it  was  quite  dark  the  whole  front 
of  the  mansion-house  suddenly  blazed  forth  in  a  blinding  illu- 
mination. There  were  stars,  wheels,  festoons,  and  leaves,  all  in 
fire.  In  the  center  burned  a  rich  transparency,  exhibiting 
the  arms  of  the  Brudenells. 

During  this  illumination  none  of  the  family  appeared  in 
front,  as  their  forms  must  have  obscured  a  portion  of  the  lights. 
It  lasted  some  ten  or  fifteen  minutes,  and  then  suddenly  went 
out,  and  everything  was  again  dark  as  midnight.  Suddenly 
from  the  center  of  the  lawn  streamed  up  a  rocket,  lighting  up 
with  a  lurid  fire  all  the  scene — the  mansion-house  with  the 
family  and  their  more  honored  guests  now  seated  upon  the 
upper  piazza,  the  crowds  of  men,  women,  and  children,  white, 
black,  and  mixed,  that  stood  with  upturned  faces  in  the  lawn, 
the  distant  knoll  on  which  were  grouped  the  sisters  and  their 
protector,  the  more  distant  forests  and  the  tops  of  remote  hills, 
which  all  glowed  by  night  in  this  red  glare.  This  seeming 
conflagration  lasted  a  minute,  and  then  all  was  darkness  again. 
This  rocket  was  but  the  signal  for  the  commencement  of  the 
fireworks  on  the  lawn.    Another  and  another,  each  more  bril- 


16  ishmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

liant  than  the  last,  succeeded.  There  were  stars,  wheels,  ser- 
pents, griffins,  dragons,  all  flashing  forth  from  the  darkness 
in  living  fire,  filling  the  rustic  spectators  with  admiration, 
wonder,  and  terror,  and  then  as  suddenly  disappeai'ing  as  if 
swallowed  up  in  the  night  from  which  they  had  sprung.  One 
instant  the  whole  scene  was  lighted  up  as  by  a  general  con- 
flagration, the  next  it  was  hidden  in  darkness  deep  as  mid- 
night. The  sisters,  no  more  than  their  fellow-rustics,  had  never 
witnessed  the  marvel  of  fireworks,  so  now  they  gazed  from 
their  distant  standpoint  on  the  knoll  with  interest  bordering 
upon  consternation. 

"Don't  you  think  they're  dangerous,  Reuben?"  inquired 
Hannah. 

"No,  dear;  else  such  a  lamed  gentleman  as  Mr.  Brudenell, 
and  such  a  prudent  lady  as  the  old  madam,  would  never  allow 
them,"  answered  Gray. 

Nora  did  n't  speak;  she  was  absorbed  not  only  by  the  fire- 
works thenselves,  but  by  the  group  on  the  balcony  that  each 
illumination  revealed ;  or,  to  be  exact,  by  one  face  in  that  group 
— the  face  of  Herman  Brudenell. 

At  length  the  exhibition  closed  with  one  grand  tableau  in. 
many  colored  fire,  displaying  the  family  group  of  Brudenell, 
surmounted  by  their  crest,  arms,  and  supporters,  all  encircled 
by  wreaths  of  flowers.  This  splendid  transparency  illumined 
the  whole  scene  with  dazzling  light.  It  was  welcomed  by  deaf- 
ening huzzas  from  the  crowd.  When  the  noise  had  somewhat 
subsided,  Reuben  Gray,  gazing  with  the  sisters  from  their 
knoll  upon  all  this  glory,  touched  Nora  upon  the  shoulder  and 
oaid: 

" Look !  " 

"I  am  looking,"  she  said. 

"What  do  you  see?" 

"  The  fireworks,  of  course." 

"And  what  beyond  them?" 

"  The  great  house — Brudenell  Hall." 

"And  there?" 

"  The  party  on  the  upper  piazza." 

"  With  Mr.  Brudenell  in  the  midst?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Now,  then,  observe !  You  see  him,  but  it  is  across  the  glare 
of  the  fireworks!  There  is  fire  between  you  and  him,  girl — a 
gulf  of  fire!     See  that  you  do  not  dream  either  he  or  you  can 


PASSION".  17 

pass  it !  For  either  to  do  so  would  be  to  sink  one,  and  that  is 
yourself,  in  burning  fire — in  consuming  shame!  Oh,  Nora, 
beware !  " 

He  had  spoken  thus!  he,  the  poor  unlettered  man  who  had 
scarcely  ever  opened  his  mouth  before  without  a  grievous 
assault  upon  good  English!  he  had  breathed  these  words  of 
eloquent  warning,  as  if  by  direct  inspiration,  as  though  his  lips, 
like  those  of  the  prophet  of  old,  had  been  touched  by  the  living 
coal  from  Heaven.  His  solemn  words  awed  Hannah,  who  under- 
stood them  by  sympathy,  and  frightened  Nora,  who  did  not 
understand  them  at  all.  The  last  rays  of  the  finale  were  dying 
out,  and  with  their  expiring  light  the  party  on  the  upper  piazza 
were  seen  to  bow  to  the  rustic  assembly  on  the  lawn,  and  then 
to  withdraw  into  the  house. 

And  thus  ended  the  fete  day  of  the  young  heir  of  Brudenell 
Hall. 

The  guests  began  rapidly  to  disperse. 

Eeuben  Gray  escorted  the  sisters  home,  talking  with  Hannah 
all  the  way,  not  upon  the  splendors  of  the  festival — a  topic  he 
seemed  willing  to  have  forgotten,  but  upon  crops,  stock,  wages, 
and  the  price  of  tea  and  sugar.  This  did  not  prevent  Nora  from 
dreaming  on  the  interdicted  subject;  on  the  contrary,  it  left 
her  all  the  more  opportunity  to  do  so,  until  they  all  three 
reached  the  door  of  the  hill  hut,  where  Eeuben  Gray  bade  them 
good-night, 

CHAPTEE   IIL 

PASSION. 

If  we  are  nature's,  this  is  ours — this  thorn 

Doth  to  our  rose  of  youth  rightly  belong; 

It  is  the  show  and  seal  of  nature's  truth 

When  love's  strong  passion  is  impressed  in  youth. 

— Shakspere. 

What  a  contrast!  the  interior  of  that  poor  hut  to  all  the 
splendors  they  had  left!  The  sisters  both  were  tired,  and 
quickly  undressed  and  went  to  bed,  but  not  at  once  to  sleep. 

Hannah  had  the  bad  habit  of  laying  awake  at  night,  studying 
how  to  make  the  two  ends  of  her  income  and  her  outlay  meet 
at  the  close  of  the  year,  just  as  if  loss  of  rest  ever  helped  on 
the  solution  to  that  problem! 

Nora,  for  her  part,  lay  awake  in  a  disturbance  of  her  whole 


18  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

nature,  which  she  could  neither  understand  nor  subdue!  ISTora 
had  never  read  a  poem,  a  novel,  or  a  play  in  her  life;  she  had  no 
knowledge  of  the  world ;  and  no  instructress  but  her  old  maiden 
sister.  Therefore  Nora  knew  no  more  of  love  than  does  the 
novice  who  has  never  left  her  convent !  She  could  not  compre- 
hend the  reason  why  after  meeting  with  Herman  Brudenell  she 
had  taken  such  a  disgust  at  the  rustic  beaus  who  had  hitherto 
pleased  her;  nor  yet  why  her  whole  soul  was  so  very  strangely 
troubled;  why-  at  once  she  was  so  happy  and  so  miserable; 
and,  above  all,  why  she  could  not  speak  of  these  things  to  her 
sister  Hannah.    She  tossed  about  in  feverish  excitement. 

"  What  in  the  world  is  the  matter  with  you,  Nora  ?  YoiE 
are  as  restless  as  a  kitten ;  what  ails  you  ? "  asked  Hannah. 

"  Nothing,"  was  the  answer. 

Now  everyone  who  has  looked  long  upon  life  knows  tliafS 
of  all  the  maladies,  mental  or  physical,  that  aiHict  humaia 
nature,  "nothing"  is  the  most  common,  the  most  dangerous, 
and  the  most  incurable !  When  you  see  a  person  preoccupied, 
downcast,  despondent,  and  ask  him,  "  Vv  hat  is  the  matter  ? " 
and  he  answers,  "  Nothing,"  be  sure  that  it  is  something  great, 
unutterable,  or  fatal!  Hannah  Worth  knew  this  by  instind^ 
and  so  she  answered : 

"  Nonsense,  Nora !  I  know  there  is  something  that  keeps  yoti 
awake ;  what  is  it  now  ?  " 

"  Really — and  indeed  it  is  nothing  serious ;  only  I  am  think- 
ing over  what  we  have  seen  to-day !  " 

"  Oh !  but  try  to  go  to  sleep  now,  my  dear,"  said  Hannah, 
as  if  satisfied. 

*'I  can't;  but,  Hannah,  I  say,  are  you  and  Reuben  Gray 
engaged  ? " 

"Yes,  dear." 

"  How  long  have  you  been  engaged  ? " 

"  For  more  than  twelve  years,  dear." 

*'  My — good — gracious — me — alive !  Twelve  years !  Why 
on  earth  don't  you  get  married,  Hannah  ? " 

"  He  cannot  afford  it,  dear ;  it  takes  everything  he  can  rake 
and  scrape  to  keep  his  mother  and  his  little  brothers  and  sisters, 
and  even  with  all  that  they  often  want." 

"Well,  then,  why  don't  he  let  you  off  of  your  promise?  " 

"  Nora ! — what !  why  we  would  no  sooner  think  of  breaking 
with  each  other  than  if  we  hnrl  been  married,  instead  of  being 
engaged  all  these  twelve  years !  " 


PASSION.  19 

"  Well,  then,  when  do  you  expect  to  be  married  ?  " 

"I  do  not  know,  dear;  when  his  sisters  and  brothers  are  all 
grown  up  and  oif  his  hands,  I  suppose." 

"  And  that  won't  be  for  the  next  ten  years — even  if  then ! 
Hannah,  you  will  be  an  elderly  woman,  and  he  an  old  man, 
before  that !  " 

"  Yes,  dear,  I  know  that;  but  we  must  be  patient;  for  every- 
one in  this  world  has  something  to  bear,  and  v;e  must  accept 
our  share.  And  even  if  it  should  bo  in  our  old  age  that  Reuben 
and  myself  come  together,  what  of  that?  We  shall  have  all 
eternity  before  us  to  live  together;  for,  Nora,  dear,  I  look  upon 
myself  as  his  promised  wife  for  time  and  eternity.  Therefore, 
you  see  there  is  no  such  thing  i>ossible  as  for  me  to  break  with 
Reuben,  We  belong  to  each  other  forever,  and  the  Lord  him- 
self knows  it.  And  now,  dear,  be  quiet  and  try  to  sleep ;  for  we 
must  rise  early  to-morrow  to  make  up  by  industry  for  the  time 
lost  to-day;  so,  once  more,  good-night,  dear." 

Kora  responded  to  this  good-night,  and  turned  her  head  to 
the  wall — not  to  sleep,  but  to  muse  on  those  fiery,  dark-brown 
eyes  that  had  looked  such  mysterious  meanings  into  hers,  and 
that  thrilling  deep-toned  voice  that  had  breathed  such  sweet 
praise  in  her  ears.  And  so  musing,  ISTora  fell  asleep,  and  her 
reverie  passed  into  dreams. 

Early  the  next  morning  the  sistere  were  up.  The  weather 
had  changed  with  the  usual  abruptness  of  our  capricious  cli- 
mate. The  day  before  had  been  like  June.  This  day  was  like 
January.  A  dark-gray  sky  overhead,  with  black  clouds  driven 
■  by  an  easterly  wind  scudding  across  it,  and  threatening  a  rain 
storm. 

The  sisters  hurried  through  their  morning  work,  got  their 
fiiigal  breakfast  over,  put  their  room  in  order,  and  sat  down 
to  their  daily  occupation — Hannah  before  her  loom,  Nora  be- 
side her  spinning-wheel.  The  clatter  of  the  loom,  the  whir 
of  the  wheel,  admitted  of  no  conversation  between  the  workers; 
so  Hannah  worked,  as  usual,  in  perfect  silence,  and  Nora,  who 
ever  before  sung  to  the  sound  of  her  humming  Vi^heel,  now 
m.used  instead.  The  wind  rose  in  occasional  gusts,  shaking  the 
little  hut  in  its  exposed  jwDsition  on  the  hill. 

"  How  different    from  yesterday,"  sighed  Nora,  at  length. 

"Yes,  dear;  but  such  is  life,"  said  Hannah.  And  there  the 
conversation  ended,  and  only  the  clatter  of  the  loom  and  the 
whir  of  the  wheel  was  heard  again,  the  sisters  working  on  in 


20  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN    THE   DEPTHS. 

silence.    But  hark!    Why  has  the  wheel  suddenly  stopped  and 
the  heart  of  Nora  started  to  rapid  beating? 

A  step  came  crashing  through  the  crisp  frost,  and  a  hand 
was  on  the  door-latch. 

"  It  is  Mr.  Brudenell !  What  can  he  want  here  ?  "  exclaimed 
Hannah,  in  a  tone  of  impatience,  as  she  arose  and  opened  the 
door. 

The  fresh,  smiling,  genial  face  of  the  young  man  met  her 
there.  His  kind,  cordial,  cheery  voice  addressed  her :  "  Good 
morning,  Hannah !  I  have  been  down  to  the  bay  this  morning, 
jrou  see,  bleak  as  it  is,  and  the  fish  bite  well !  See  this  fine  rock 
fish !  will  you  accept  it  from  me  ?  And  oh,  will  you  let  me  come 
in  and  thaw  out  my  half -frozen  fingers  by  your  fire?  or  will 
you  keep  me  standing  out  here  in  the  cold  ?  "  he  added,  smiling. 

"  Walk  in,  sir,"  said  Hannah,  inhospitably  enough,  as  she 
made  way  for  him  to  enter. 

He  came  in,  wearing  his  picturesque  fisherman's  dress,  carry- 
ing his  fishing-rod  over  his  right  shoulder,  and  holding  in  his 
left  hand  the  fine  rock  fish  of  which  he  had  spoken.  His  eyes 
searched  for  and  found  Nora,  whose  face  was  covered  with  the 
deepest  blushes. 

"Good  morning,  Nora!  I  hope  you  enjoyed  yourself  yester- 
day. Did  they  take  care  of  you  after  I  left?"  he  inquired,, 
going  up  to  her. 

"  Yes,  thank  you,  sir." 

"  Mr.  Brudenell,  will  you  take  this  chair  ? "  said  Hannah,, 
placing  one  directly  before  the  fire,  and  pointing  to  it  without 
giving  him  time  to  speak  another  word  to  Nora. 

"  Thank  you,  yes,  Hannah ;  and  will  you  relieve  me  of  this 
fish?" 

•  "  No ,  thank  you,  sir ;  I  think  you  had  better  take  it  up  to  the 
madam,"  said  Hannah  bluntly. 

"  What !  carry  this  all  the  way  from  here  to  Brudenell,  after 
bringing  it  from  the  bay?  Whatever  are  you  thinking  of< 
Hannah  ? "  laughed  the  young  man,  as  he  stepped  outside  for  a 
moment  and  hung  the  fish  on  a  nail  in  the  Avail.  "  There  it  is, 
Hannah,"  he  said,  returning  and  taking  his  seat  at  the  fire; 
*'  you  can  use  it  or  throw  it  away,  as  you  like." 

Hannah  made  no  reply  to  this ;  she  did  not  wish  to  encourage 
him  either  to  talk  or  to  prolong  his  sta3\  Her  very  expression 
of  countenance  was  cold  and  repellent  almost  to  rudeness.  Nora 
saw  this  and  sympathized  with  him,  and  blamed  her  sister. 


PASSIOJ^.  21 

"  To  thiiik,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  that  he  was  so  good  to  us 
when  we  went  to  see  him ;  and  Hannah  is  so  rude  to  him,  now 
he  has  come  to  see  us!  It  is  a  shame!  And  see  how  well  he 
hears  it  all,  too,  sitting  there  warming  his  poor  white  hands." 

In  fact,  the  good  humor  of  the  young  man  was  imperturbable. 
He  sat  there,  as  Nora  observed,  smiling  and  spreading  his 
hands  out  over  the  genial  blaze  and  seeking  to  talk  amicably 
with  Hannah,  and  feeling  compensated  for  all  the  rebuffs  he 
received  from  the  elder  sister  whenever  he  encountered  a  com- 
passionate glance  from  the  younger,  although  at  the  meeting 
of  their  eyes  her  glance  was  instantly  withdrawn  and  succeeded 
by  fiery  blushes.  Pie  stayed  as  long  as  he  had  the  least  excuse 
for  doing  so,  and  then  arose  to  take  his  leave,  half  smiling  at 
Hannah's  inhospitable  surliness  and  his  own  perseverance  under 
difficulties.  He  went  up  to  ISTora  to  bid  her  good-by.  He  took 
her  hand,  and  as  he  gently  pressed  it  he  looked  into  her  eyes; 
but  hers  fell  beneath  his  gaze ;  and  with  a  simple  "  Good-day, 
l^Tora,"  he  turned  away. 

Hannah  stood  holding  the  cottage  door  wide  open  for  his  exit. 

"  Good  morning,  Hannah,"  he  said  smilingly,  as  he  passed 
out. 

She  stepped  after  him,  saying : 

"  Mr.  Bi-udenell,  sir,  I  must  beg  you  not  to  come  so  far  out 
of  your  way  again  to  bring  us  a  fish.  We  thank  you;  but  we 
could  not  accept  it.  This  also  I  must  request  you  to  take  away." 
And  detaching  the  rock  fish  from  the  nail  where  it  hung,  she 
put  it  in  his  hands. 

He  laughed  good-humoredly  as  he  took  it,  and  without  fur- 
ther answer  than  a  low  bow  walked  swiftly  down  the  hill. 

Hannah  re-entered  the  hut  and  found  herself  in  the  midst 
of  a  tempest  in  a  tea-pot. 

ISTora  had  a  fiery  temper  of  her  own,  and  now  it  blazed  out 
upon  her  sister — her  beautiful  face  was  stormy  with  grief  and 
indignation  as  she  exclaimed: 

"  Oh,  Hannah !  how  could  you  act  so  shamefully  ?  To  think 
that  yesterday  you  aiid  I  ate  and  drank  and  feasted  and  danced 
all  day  at  his  place,  and  received  so  much  kindness  and  atten- 
tion from  him  besides,  and  to-day  you  would  scarcely  let  him 
sit  down  and  warm  his  feet  in  ours!  You  ti-eated  him  worse 
than  a  dog,  you  did,  Hannah.  And  he  felt  it,  too.  I  saw  he  did, 
though  he  was  too  much  of  a  gentleman  to  show  it!  And  as 
for  me,  I  could  have  died  from  mortification ! " 


22  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN"   THE    DEPTHS. 

"  My  child,"  answered  HanBali  gravely,  "  however  badly  you 
or  he  might  have  felt,  believe  me,  I  felt  the  worse  of  the  three, 
to  be  obliged  to  take  the  course  I  did." 

"  He  will  never  come  here  again,  never ! "  sobbed  ISTora, 
scarcely  heeding  the  reply  of  her  sister. 

"  I  hope  to  Heaven  he  never  may ! "  said  Hannah,  as  she  re- 
sumed her  seat  at  her  loom  and  drove  the  shuttle  "  fast  and 
furious  "  from  side  to  side  of  her  cloth. 

But  he  did  come  again.  Despite  the  predictions  of  Kora  and 
the  prayers  of  Hannah  and  the  inclemency  of  the  weather. 

The  next  day  was  a  tempestuous  one,  A\nth  rain,  snow,  hail, 
and  sleet  all  driven  before  a  keen  northeast  wind,  and  the 
sisters,  with  a  great  roaring  fire  in  the  fireplace  between  them, 
were  seated  the  one  at  her  loom  and  the  other  at  her  spinning- 
wheel,  when  there  came  a  rap  at  the  door,  and  before  anyone 
could  possibly  have  had  time  to  go  to  it,  it  was  pushed  open, 
and  Herman  Brudenell,  covered  with  snow  and  sleet,  rushed 
quickly  in. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  my  dear  Hannah,  give  me  shelter  from 
the  storm !  I  couldn't  wait  for  ceremony,  you  see !  I  had  to 
rush  right  in  after  knocking !  pardon  me !  Was  ever  such  a 
climate  as  this  of  ours !  What  a  day  for  the  seventeenth  of 
April!  It  ought  to  be  bottled  up  and  sent  abroad  as  a  curi- 
osity !  "  he  exclaimed,  all  in  a  breath,  as  he  xinceremoniously 
took  off  his  cloak  and  shook  it  and  threw  it  over  a  chair. 

"  Mr.  Brudenell !  You  here  again !  What  could  have  brought 
you  out  on  such  a  day  ? "  cried  Hannah,  starting  up  from  her 
loom  in  extreme  surprise. 

"  The  spirit  of  restlessness,  Hannah !  It  is  so  dull  up  there, 
and  particularly  on  a  dull  day!  How  do  you  do,  ITcra? 
Blooming  as  a  rose,  eh  ? "  he  said,  suddenly  breaking  off  and 
going  to  shake  hands  with  the  blushing  girl. 

"iSTever  mind  Nora's  roses,  Mr.  Brudenell;  attend  to  me; 
I  ask  did  you  expect  to  find  it  any  livelier  here  in  this  poor 
hut  than  in  your  o-\vn  princely  halls  ? "  said  Hannah,  as  she 
placed  a  chair  before  the  fire  for  his  accommodation. 

"  A  great  deal  livelier,  Hannah,"  he  replied,  with  boyish 
frankness,  as  he  took  his  seat  and  spread  out  his  hands  before 
the  cheerful  blaze.  "  ISTo  end  to  the  livelier.  Why,  Hannah, 
it  is  always  lively  where  there's  nature,  and  always  dull  where 
there's  not !  Up  yonder  now  there's  too  much  art ;  high  art 
indeed — but  still  art !    From  my  mother  and  sisters  all  nature 


PASSION"  23 

seems  to  have  been  educated,  refined,  and  polished  away.  There 
we  all  sat  this  morning  in  the  parlor,  the  young  ladies  punching 
holes  in  pieces  of  muslin,  to  sew  them  up  again,  and  calling  the 
work  embroidery;  and  there  was  my  mother,  actually  working 
a  blue  lamb  on  red  grass,  and  calling  her  employment  worsted 
Y'ork.  There  was  no  talk  but  of  patterns,  no  fire  but  what  was 
shut  up  close  in  a  horrid  radiator.  Really,  out  of  doors  was  more 
inviting  than  in.  I  thought  I  would  just  throw  on  my  cloak 
and  walk  over  here  to  see  how  you  were  getting  along  this  cold 
weather,  and  what  do  I  find  here?  A  great  open  blazing  wood- 
fire — Avarm,  fragrant,  and  cheerful  as  only  such  a  fire  can  be! 
and  a  humming  wheel  and  a  dancing  loom,  two  cheerful  girls 
looking  bright  as  two  chirijing  birds  in  their  nest!  This  iS 
like  a  nest !  and  it  is  worth  the  walk  to  find  it.  You'll  not  turn 
me  out  for  an  hour  or  so,  Hannah  ? " 

There  was  scarcely  any  such  thing  as  resisting  his  gay,  frank, 
boyish  appeal ;  yet  Hannah  answered  coldly : 

"  Certainly  not,  Mr.  Brudenell,  though  I  fancy  you  might 
Lave  found  more  attractive  company  elsewhere.  There  can 
be  little  amusement  for  you  in  sitting  there  and  listening  to  the 
flying  shuttle  or  the  whirling  wheel,  for  hours  together,  pleasant 
as  you  might  have  first  thought  them." 

"  Yes,  but  it  will !  I  shall  hear  music  in  the  loom  and  wheel, 
and  see  pictures  in  the  fire,"  said  the  young  man,  settling  him- 
self, comfortable. 

Hannah  drove  her  shuttle  back  and  forth  with  a  vigor  that 
seemed  to  owe  something  to  temper. 

Herman  heard  no  music  and  saw  no  pictures;  his  whole 
nature  was  absorbed  in  the  one  delightful  feeling  of  being  near 
Nora,  only  being  near  her,  that  was  sufiicient  for  the  present 
to  make  him  happy.  To  talk  to  her  was  impossible,  even  if  he 
had  greatly  desired  to  do  so;  for  the  music  of  which  he  had 
spoken  made  too  much  noise.  He  stayed  as  long  as  he  possibly 
could,  and  then  reluctantly  arose  to  leave.  He  shook  hands 
with  Hannah  fii-st,  reserving  tlie  dear  delight  of  pressing  ISTora's 
hand  for  the  last. 

The  next  day  the  weather  changed  again ;  it  was  fine ;  and 
Herman  Brudenell,  as  usual,  presented  himself  at  the  hut; 
his  excuse  this  time  being  that  he  wished  to  inquire  whether 
the  sisters  would  not  like  to  have  some  repairs  put  upon  the 
house — a  new  roof,  another  door  and  window,  or  even  a  new 
loom  added;  if  so,  his  carpenter  was  even  now  at  Brudenell 


24  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  EST   THE   DEPTHS. 

Hall,  attendiitg  to  some  improvements  there,  and  as  soon  ai 
he  was  done  he  should  be  sent  to  the  hut. 

But  no;  Hannah  wanted  no  repairs  whatever.  The  hut  was 
large  enough  for  her  and  her  sister,  only  too  small  to  entertain 
visitors.  So  with  this  pointed  home-thrust  from  Hannah,  and 
a  glance  that  at  once  healed  the  wound  from  Nora,  he  was 
forced  to  take  his  departure. 

The  next  day  he  called  again;  he  had,  unluckily,  left  his 
gloves  behind  him  during  his  preceding  visit. 

They  were  very  nearly  flung  at  his  head  by  the  thoroughly 
exasperated  Hannah.  But  again  he  was  made  happy  by  a 
glance  from  itsTora. 

And,  in  short,  almost  every  day  he  found  some  excuse  for 
coming  to  the  cottage,  overlooking  all  Hannah's  rude  rebuffs 
with  the  most  imperturbable  good  humor.  At  all  these  visits 
Hannah  was  present.  She  never  left  the  house  for  an  instant, 
even  when  upon  one  occasion  she  saw  the  cows  in  her  garden, 
eating  up  all  the  young  peas  and  beans.  She  let  the  garden 
be  utterly  destroyed  rather  than  leave  Nora  to  hear  words  of 
love  that  for  her  could  mean  nothing  but  misery.  This  went 
on  for  some  weeks,  when  Hannah  was  driven  to  decisive  meas- 
ures by  an  unexpected  event.  Early  one  morning  Hannah  went 
to  a  village  called  "  Baymouth,"  to  procure  coffee,  tea,  and 
sugar.  She  went  there,  did  her  errand,  and  returned  to  the  hut 
as  quickly  as  she  could  possibly  could.  As  she  suddenly  opened 
the  door  she  was  struck  with  consternation  by  seeing  the  wheel 
idle  and  Nora  and  Herman  seated  close  together,  conversing  in 
a  low,  confidential  tone.  They  started  up  on  seeing  her,  con- 
fusion on  their  faces. 

Hannah  was  thoroughly  self-possessed.  Putting  her  parcels 
in  Nora's  hands,  she  said : 

"  Empty  these  in  their  boxes,  dear,  while  I  speak  to  Mr. 
Brudenell."  Then  turning  to  the  young  man,  she  said :  "  Sir, 
your  mother,  I  believe,  has  asked  to  see  me  about  some  cloth 
she  wishes  to  have  woven.  I  am  going  over  to  her  now;  will 
you  go  with  me  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  Hannah,"  replied  Mr.  Brudenell,  seizing  his  hat 
in  nervous  trepidation,  and  forgetting  or  not  venturing 
to  bid  good-by  to  Nora. 

When  they  had  got  a  little  way  from  the  hut,  Hannah  said: 

"  Mr.  Brudenell,  why  do  you  come  to  our  poor  little  house 
BO  often?" 


PASSIOTT.  25 

The  question,  though  it  was  expected,  was  perplexing. 

"  Why  do  I  come,  Hannah  ?     Why,  because  I  like  to." 

"  Because  you  like  to !  Quite  a  sufficient  reason  for  a  gentle- 
man to  render  for  his  actions,  I  suppose  you  think.  But,  now, 
another  question :  '  What  are  your  intentions  towards  my 
sister?'" 

"  My  intentions ! "  repeated  the  young  man,  in  a  thunder- 
struck manner.    "  What  in  the  world  do  you  mean,  Hannah  ?  " 

"I  mean  to  remind  you  that  you  have  been  visiting  ISTora 
for  the  last  two  months,  and  that  to-day,  when  I  entered  the 
house,  I  found  you  sitting  together  as  lovers  sit ;  looking  at  each 
other  as  lovers  look;  and  speaking  in  the  low  tones  that  lovers 
use;  and  when  I  reached  you,  you  started  in  confusion — as 
lovers  do  when  discovered  at  their  love-making.  Now  I  repeat 
my  question,  'What  are  your  intentions  towards  Nora 
Worth?'" 

Herman  Brudenell  was  blushing  now,  if  he  had  never  blushed 
before;  his  very  brow  was  crimson.  Hannah  had  to  reiterate 
her  question  before  his  hesitating  tongue  could  answer  it. 

"My  intentions,  Hannah?  Nothing  wrong,  I  do  swear  to 
you!    Heaven  knows,  I  mean  no  harm." 

"I  believe  that,  Mr.  Brudenell!  I  have  always  believed  it, 
else  be  sure  that  I  should  have  found  means  to  compel  your 
absence.  But  though  you  might  have  meant  no  harm,  did  you 
mean  any  good,  Mr.  Brudenell  ? " 

"  Hannah,  I  fear  that  I  meant  nothing  but  to  enjoy  the  great 
pleasure   I   derived   from — from — Nora's   society,    and " 

"Stop  there,  Mr.  Brudenell;  do  not  add — mine;  for  that 
would  be  an  insincerity  unworthy  of  you!  Of  jne  you  did 
^  not  think,  except  as  a  marplot !  You  say  you  came  for  the  great 
pleasure  you  enjoyed  in  Nora's  society!  Did  it  ever  occur  to 
you  that  she  might  learn  to  take  too  much  pleasure  in  yours? 
Answer  me  truly." 

"Hannah,  yes,  I  believed  that  she  was  very  happy  in  my 
company." 

"  In  a  word,  you  liked  her,  and  you  knew  you  were  winning 
her  liking!  And  yet  you  had  no  intentions  of  any  sort,  you 
say;  you  meant  nothing,  you  admit,  but  to  enjoy  yourself! 
Now,  Mr.  Brudenell,  do  you  think  it  a  manly  part  for  a  gentle- 
man to  seek  to  win  a  poor  girl's  love  merely  for  his  pastime  ? " 

"  Hannah,  you  are  severe  on  me !  Heaven  knows  I  have  never 
spoken  (me  word  of  love  to  Nora." 


26  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

"  *  liever  spoken  one  word ! '  What  of  that  ?  What  need  of 
words?  Are  not  glances,  are  not  tones,  far  more  eloquent  than 
words?  With  these  glances  and  tones  you  have  a  thousand 
times  assured  my  young  sister  that  you  love  her,  that  you  adore 
her,  that  you  worship  her !  " 

"  HannaJa,  if  my  eyes  spoke  this  language  to  Nora,  they  spoke 
Heaven's  own  truth!  There!  I  have  told  you  more  than  I 
ever  told  her,  for  to  her  my  eyes  only  have  spoken ! "  said  the 
young  man    fervently. 

"  Of  what  were  you  talking  with  your  heads  so  close  together 
this  morning?"  asked  Hannah   abruptly. 

"  How  do  I  know  ?  Of  birds,  of  flowers,  moonshine,  or  some 
such  rubbish.     I  v/as  not  heeding  my  words." 

"  ISTo,  your  eyes  were  too  busy !  And  now,  Mr.  Brudenell,  I 
repeat  my  question:  Was  yours  a  manly  part — discoursing  all 
this  love  to  Nora,  and  having  no  ultimate  intentions  ? " 

"  Hannah,  I  never  questioned  my  conscience  upon  that  point; 
I  was  too  happy  for  such  cross-examination." 

"  But  now  the  question  is  forced  upon  you,  Mr.  Brudenell, 
and  we  must  have  an  answer  now  and  here." 

"  Then,  Hannah,  I  will  answer  truly !  I  love  Nora ;  and  if 
I  were  free  to  marry,  I  would  make  her  my  wife  to-morrow; 
but  I  am  not;  therefore  I  have  been  wrong,  and  very  wrong, 
to  seek  her  society.  I  acted,  however,  from  want  of  thought, 
not  from  want  of  principle;  I  hope  you  will  believe  that, 
Hannah." 

"I  do  believe  it,  Mr.  Brudenell." 

"  And  now  I  put  myself  in  your  hands,  Hannah !  Direct 
me  as  you  think  best ;  I  will  obey  you.    What  shall  I  do  ?  " 

"  See  Nora  no  more ;  from  this  day  absent  yourself  from  our 
house." 

He  turned  pale  as  death,  reeled,  and  supported  himself 
against  the  trunk  of  a  friendly  tree. 

Hannah  looked  at  him,  and  from  the  bottom  of  her  heart 
she  pitied  him;  for  she  knew  what  love  was — ^loving  Reuben! 

"  Mr.  Brudenell,"  she  said,  "  do  not  take  this  to  heart  so 
much :  why  should  you,  indeed,  when  you  know  that  your  fate 
is  in  your  ovm.  hands?  You  are  master  of  your  own  destiny, 
and  no  man  who  is  so  should  give  way  to  despondency.  The 
alternative  before  you  is  simply  this:  to  cease  to  visit  Nora, 
or  to  marry  her.  To  do  the  first  you  must  sacrifice  your  love ; 
to  do  the  last  you  must  sacrifice  your  pride.    Now  choose  b©* 


PASsioir.  27 

tween  tlie  courses  of  action !  Gratify  your  love  or  your  pride, 
as  you  see  fit,  and  cheerfully  pay  down  the  price!  This  seems 
to  me  to  be  the  only  manly,  the  only  rational,  course." 

"  Oh,  Hannah,  Hannah,  you  do  not  understand !  you  do  not !  " 
he  cried  in  a  voice  full  of  anguish. 

"  Yes,  I  do ;  I  know  how  hard  it  would  be  to  you  in  either 
case.  On  the  one  hand,  v/hat  a  cruel  wrench  it  will  give  your 
b.eart  to  tear  yourself  from  Nora " 

"  Yes,  yes ;  oh.  Heaven,  yes !  " 

"  And,  on  the  other  hand,  I  know  what  an  awful  sacrifice  jon 
would  make  in  marrying  her " 

"  It  is  not  that !  Oh,  do  me  justice !  I  should  not  think  it 
a  sacrifice !  She  is  too  good  for  me !  Oh,  Hannah,  it  is  not  that 
which  hinders ! " 

"  It  is  the  thought  of  your  mother  and  sisters,  perhaps ;  but 
surely  if  they  love  you,  as  I  am  certain  they  do,  and  if  they  see 
your  happiness  depends  upon  this  marriage — in  time  they  will 
yield!" 

"  It  is  not  my  family  either,  Hannah !  Do  you  think  that 
I  would  sacrifice  my  peace — or  hers — to  the  unreasonable  pride 
of  my  family  ?     No,  Hannah,  no  !  " 

"  Then  what  is  it  ?  What  stands  in  the  way  of  your  offering 
your  hand  to  her  to  whom  you  have  given  your  heart  ?  " 

"  Hannah,  I  cannot  tell  you !  Oh,  Hannah,  I  feel  that  I 
have  been  very  wrong,  criminal  even !  But  I  acted  blindly ; 
you  have  opened  my  eyes,  and  now  I.see  I  must  visit  your  house 
no  more;  how  much  it  costs  me  to  say  this — to  do  this — you 
can  never  know !  " 

He  wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  pale  brow,  and,  after 
a  few  moments  given  to  the  effort  of  composing  himself,  he 
asked : 

"  Shall  we  go  on  now  ?  " 

She  nodded  assent  and  they  walked  onward. 

"  Hannah,"  he  said,  as  they  went  along,  "  I  have  one  deplor- 
able weakness." 

She  looked  up  suddenly,  fearing  to  hear  the  confession  of 
some  fatal  vice. 

He  continued: 

"  It  is  the  propensity  to  please  others,  whether  by  doing  so 
I  act  well  or  ill !  " 

"  Mr.  Brudenell !  "  exclaimed  Hannah,  in  a  shocked  voice. 

**Yes,  the  pain  I  feel  in  seeing  others  suffer,  the  delight  I 


28  ISHMAEL  ;    OK,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

iiave  in  seeing  them  enjoy,  often  leads — ^leads  me  to  sacrifice 
not  only  my  own  personal  interests,  but  the  principles  of  truth 
and  justice! " 

"Oh,  Mr.  Brudenell!" 

"  It  is  so,  Hannah !  And  one  signal  instance  of  such  a  sacri- 
fice at  once  of  myself  and  of  the  right  has  loaded  my  life  with 
endless  regret!  However,  I  am  ungenerous  to  say  this;  for  a 
gift  once  given,  even  if  it  is  of  that  which  one  holds  most 
precious  in  the  world,  should  be  forgotten  or  at  least  not  be- 
grudged by  the  giver !    Ah,  Hannah "    He  stopped  abruptly. 

"  Mr.  Brudenell,  you  will  excuse  me  for  saying  that  I  agree 
with  you  in  your  reproach  of  yourself.  That  trait  of  which 
you  speak  is  a  weakness  which  should  be  cured.  I  am  but  a 
poor  country  girl.  But  I  have  seen  enough  to  know  that 
sensitive  and  sympathizing  natures  like  your  own  are  always 
at  the  mercy  of  all  around  them.  The  honest  and  the  generous 
take  no  advantage  of  such;  but  the  selfish  and  the  calculating 
make  a  prey  of  them!  You  call  this  weakness  a  propensity 
to  please  others!  Mr.  Brudenell,  seek  to  please  the  Lord  and 
He  will  give  you  strength  to  resist  the  spoilers,"  said  Hannah 
gravely. 

"  Too  late,  too  late,  at  least  as  far  as  this  life  is  concerned, 
for  I  am  ruined,  Hannah ! " 

"Kuined!   Mr.  Brudenell!" 

"Euined,  Hannah!" 

"  Good  Heaven !  I  hope  you  have  not  endorsed  for  anyone 
to  the  whole  extent  of  your  fortune  ? " 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha !  You  make  me  laugh,  Hannah !  laugh  in  the 
very  face  of  ruin,  to  think  that  you  should  consider  loss  of  for- 
tune a  subject  of  such  eternal  regret  as  I  told  you  my  life  was 
loaded  with !  " 

"  Oh,  Mr,  Brudenell,  I  have  knovm  you  from  childhood !  I 
hope,  I  hope  you  haven't  gambled  or " 

"  Thank  Heaven,  no,  Hannah !  I  have  never  gambled,  nor 
drank,  nor — in  fact,  done  anything  of  the  sort !  " 

"  You  have  not  endorsed  for  anyone,  nor  gambled,  nor  drank, 
nor  anything  of  that  sort,  and  yet  you  are  ruined ! " 

"  Euined  and  wretched,  Hannah !  I  do  not  exaggerate  in 
saying  so ! " 

"  And  yet  you  looked  so  happy !  " 

"Grasses  grow  and  flowers  bloom  above  burning  volcanoes, 
Bannah." 


PASSION.  29^ 

"Ah,  Mr.  Brudenell,  what  is  the  nature  of  this  ruin  then? 
Tell  me!  I  am  your  sincere  friend,  and  I  am  older  than  you;^ 
perhaps  I  could  counsel  you." 

"  It  is  past  counsel,  Hannah." 

"What  is  it  then?" 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  except  this !  that  the  fatality  of  which  I 
speak  is  the  only  reason  why  I  do  not  overstep  the  boundary 
of  conventional  rank  and  marry  Nora !  Why  I  do  not  marry 
anybody !    Hush !  here  we  are  at  the  house." 

Very  stately  and  beautiful  looked  the  mansion  with  its  walls 
of  white  free-stone  and  its  porticos  of  white  marble,  gleaming, 
through  its  groves  upon  the  top  of  the  hill. 

When  they  reached  it  Hannah  turned  to  go  around  to  the. 
servants'  door,  but  Mr.  Brudenell  called  to  her,  saying: 

"  This  way !  this  way,  Hannah ! "  and  conducted  her  up  thei 
marble  steps  to  the  visitors'  entrance. 

He  preceded  her  into  the  drawing-room,  a  spacious  apart- 
ment now  in  its  simple  summer  dress  of  straw  matting,  linen, 
covers,  and  lace  curtains. 

Mrs.  Brudenell  and  the  two  young  ladies,  all  in  white  muslin 
morning  dresses,  were  gathered  around  a  marble  table  in  the 
recess  of  the  back  bay  window,  looking  over  newspapers. 

On  seeing  the  visitor  who  accompanied  her  son,  Mrs,  Brude- 
nell arose  with  a  look  of  haughty  surprise. 

"  You  wished  to  see  Hannah  Worth,  I  believe,  motJier,  and 
here  she  is,"  said  Herman. 

"My  housekeeper  did.  Touch  the  bell,  if  you  please,  Her: 
man." 

Mr.  Brudenell  did  as  requested,  and  the  summons  was  an^- 
swered  by  Jovial. 

"  Take  this  woman  to  Mrs.  Spicer,  and  say  that  she  has  comet 
about  the  weaving.  When  she  leaves  show  her  where  the 
servants'  door  is,  so  that  she  may  know  where  to  find  it  when, 
she  comes  again,"  said  Mrs.  Brudenell  haughtily.  As  soon  as 
Hannah  had  left  the  room  Herman  said : 

"  Mother,  you  need  not  have  hurt  that  poor  girl's  feelings 
by  speaking  so  before  her." 

"  She  need  not  have  exposed  herself  to  rebuke  by  entering 
where  she  did.' 

"  Mother,  she  entered  with  me.    I  brought  her  in." 

"  Then  you  were  very  wrong.  These  people,  like  all  of  their 
class,  require  to  be  kept  down — repressed." 


30  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

"  Motlier,  this  is  a  republic !  " 

"  Yes ;  and  it  is  ten  times  more  necessary  to  keep  the  lower 
orders  down,  in  a  republic  like  this,  where  they  are  always 
trying  to  rise,  than  it  is  in  a  monarchy,  where  they  always  keep 
their  place,"  said  the  lady    arrogantly. 

"What  have  you  there?"  inquired  Herman,  with  a  view  of 
changing  the  disagreeable  subject. 

"  The  English  papers.  The  foreign  mail  is  in.  And,  by  the 
way,  here  is  a  letter  for  you." 

Herman  received  the  letter  from  her  hand,  changed  color 
as  he  looked  at  the  writing  on  the  envelope,  and  walked  away 
to  the  front  window  to  read  it  alone. 

His  mother's  watcMul  eyes  followed  him. 

As  he  read,  his  face  flushed  and  paled;  his  eyes  flashed  and 
smoldered ;  sighs  and  moans  escaped  his  lips.  At  length,  softly 
crumpling  up  the  letter,  he  thi-ust  it  into  his  pocket,  and  was 
stealing  from  the  room  to  conceal  his  agitation,  when  his 
mother,  who  had  seen  it  all,  spoke: 

"  Any  bad  news,  Herman  ?  " 

"  No,  madam,"  he  promptly  answered. 

"  What   is   the  matter,   then  ? '' 

He  hesitated,  and  answered: 

"  Nothing." 

"Who  is  that  letter  from?" 

"  A  correspondent,"  he  replied,  escaping  from  the  room. 

"  Humph !  I  might  have  surmised  that  much,"  laughed  the 
lady,  with  angry  scorn. 

But  he  was  out  of  hearing. 

"  Did  you  notice  the  handwriting  on  the  envelope  of  that 
letter,  Elizabeth  ? "  she  inquired  of  her  elder  daughter. 

"  Which  letter,  mamma  ?  " 

"  That  one  for  your  brother,  of  course." 

"  No,  mamma,  I  did  not  look  at  it." 

"You  never  look  at  anything  but  your  stupid  worsted  work. 
You  will  be  an  old  maid,  Elizabeth.  Did  you  notice  it, 
Elinor?" 

"Yes,  mamma.  The  superscription  was  in  a  very  delicate 
feminine  handwriting;  and  the  seal  was  a  wounded  falcon, 
drawing  the  arrow  from  its  own  breast — surmounted  by  an 
earl's  coronet." 

"  'Tis  the  seal  of  the  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux." 


THE   FATAL   DEED.  SI 

CHAPTEK  IV. 

THE  FATAL  DEED. 

I  am  nndone;  there  is  no  living,  none, 

If  Bertram  be  away.    It  were  all  one, 

That  I  should  love  a  bright  particuhir  star, 

And  think  to  wed  it,  he  is  so  above  uie. 

The  hind  that  would  be  mated  by  the  lion, 

Must  die  for  love.     'Twas  pretty  though  a  plagu» 

To  see  him  every  hour;  to  sit  and  draw 

His  arched  brow,  his  hawking  eyes,  his  curls 

In  our  heart's  table;  heart  too  capable 

Of  every  line  and  trick  of  his  sweet  favor. 

— Shakspere. 

Hannah  Worth  walked  home,  laden  like  a  beast  of  burden, 
■with  an  enormous  bag  of  hanked  yarn  on  her  back.  She 
entered  her  hut,  dropped  the  burden  on  the  floor,  and  stopped 
to  take  breath. 

"  I  think  they  might  have  sent  a  negro  man  to  bring  that  for 
you,  Hannah,"  said  Nora,  pausing  in  her  spinning. 

"  As  if  they  would  do  that !  "  panted  Hannah. 

Not  a  word  was  said  upon  the  subject  of  Herman  Brudenell's 
morning  visit.  Hannah  forebore  to  allude  to  it  from  pity; 
Nora  from  modesty. 

Hannah  sat  down  to  rest,  and  ISTora  got  up  to  prepare  their 
simple  afternoon  meal.  For  these  sisters,  like  many  poor 
women,  took  but  two  meals  a  day. 

The  evening  passed  much  as  usual;  but  the  next  morning 
as  the  sisters  were  at  work,  Hannah  putting  the  warp  for  Mrs. 
Brudenell's  new  web  of  cloth  in  the  loom,  and  Nora  spinning, 
the  elder  noticed  that  the  younger  often  paused  in  her  work 
and  glanced  uneasily  from  the  window.  Ah,  too  well  Hannah 
understood  the  meaning  of  those  involuntary  glances.  Nora 
■was  "  watching  for  the  steps  that  came  not  back  again !  " 

Hannah  felt  sorry  for  her  sister ;  but  she  said  to  herself : 

"  Never  mind,  she  will  be  all  right  in  a  few  days.  She  will 
forget  him." 

This  did  not  happen  so,  however.  As  day  followed  day,  and 
Herman  Brudenell  failed  to  appear,  Nora  "Worth  grew  more 
xmeasy,  expectant,  and  anxious.  Ah !  who  can  estimate  the  real 
heart-sickness  of  "  hope  deferred !  "  Every  morning  she  said 
to  herself :  "  He  will  surely  come  to-day !  "     Every  day  each 


32  ishmael;  ok,  in  the  depths. 

sense  of  hearing  and  of  seeing  was  on  the  qui  vive  to  catch  the 
first  sound  or  the  first  sight  of  his  approach.  Every  night  she 
■went  to  bed  to  weep  in  silent  sorrow. 

All  other  sorrows  may  be  shared  and  lightened  by  sympathy 
except  that  of  a  young  girl's  disappointment  in  love.  With  that 
no  one  intermeddles  with  impunity.  To  notice  it  is  to  dis- 
tress her;  to  speak  of  it  is  to  insult  her;  even  her  sister  must  in 
silence  respect  it ;  as  the  expiring  dove  folds  her  wing  over  her 
mortal  wound,  so  does  the  maiden  jealously  conceal  her  grief 
and  die.  Days  grew  into  weeks,  and  Herman  did  not  come. 
And  still  Nora  watched  and  listened  as  she  spun — every  nerve 
strained  to  its  utmost  tension  in  vigilance  and  expectancy. 
Human  nature — especially  a  girl's  nature — cannot  bear  such 
a  trial  for  any  long  time  together.  Nora's  health  began  to 
fail;  first  she  lost  her  spirits,  and  then  her  appetite,  and  finally 
lier  sleep.    She  grew  pale,  thin,  and  nervous. 

Hannah's  heart  ached  for  her  sister. 

"This  will  never  do,"  she  said;  "suspense  is  killing  her.  I 
must  end  it." 

So  one  morning  while  they  were  at  work  as  usual,  and  Nora's 
hand  was  pausing  on  her  spindle,  and  her  eyes  were  fixed  upon 
"the  narrow  path  leading  through  the  Forest  Valley,  Hannah 
spoke : 

"  It  will  not  do,  dear ;  he  is  not  coming !  he  will  never  come 
again;  and  since  he  cannot  be  anything  to  you,  he  ought  not 
to  come !  " 

"  Oh,  Hannah,  I  know  it ;  but  it  is  killing  me ! " 

These  words  were  surprised  from  the  poor  girl;  for  the  very 
next  instant  her  waxen  cheeks,  brow,  neck,  and  very  ears 
kindled  up  into  fiery  blushes,  and  hiding  her  face  in  her  hands 
she  sank  dovm  in  her  chair  overwhelmed. 

Hannah  watched,  and  then  went  to  her,  and  began  to  caress 
her,  saying: 

"Nora,  Nora,  dear;  Nora,  love;  Nora,  my  own  darling^  look 
up!" 

"Don't  speak  to  me;  I  am  glad  he  does  not  come;  never  men- 
tion his  name  to  me  again,  Hannah,"  said  the  stricken  girl, 
in  a  low,  peremptory  whisper. 

Hannah  felt  that  this  order  must  be  obeyed,  and  so  she  went 
back  to  her  loom  and  worked  on  in  silence. 

After  a  few  minutes  Nora  arose  and  resumed  her  spinning, 
and    for    some    time   the  wheel  whirled  briskly  and  merrily; 


THE   FATAL    DEED.  33 

around.    But  towards  the  middle  of  the  day  it  began  to  turn 
slowly  and  still  more  slowly. 

At  length  it  stopped  entirely,  and  the  spinner  said : 

"  Hannah,  I  feel  very  tired ;  would  you  mind  if  I  should  lay 
down  a  little  while  ?  " 

"No,  certainly  not,  my  darling.     Are  your  poorly,  Nora?'* 

"No,  I  am  quite  well,  only  tired,"  replied  the  girl,  as  she 
threw  herself  upon  the  bed. 

Perhaps  Hannah  had  made  a  fatal  mistake  in  saying  to  her 
sister,  "  He  will  never  come  again,"  and  so  depriving  her  of  the 
last  frail  plank  of  hope,  and  letting  her  sink  in  the  waves  o£ 
despair.  Perhaps,  after  all,  suspense  is  not  the  worst  of  all 
things  to  bear ;  for  in  suspense  there  is  hope,  and  in  hope,  life  I 
Certain  it  is  that  a  prop  seemed  withdrawn  from  Nora,  and  from 
this  day  she  rapidly  sunk.  She  would  not  take  to  her  bed. 
Every  morning  she  would  insist  upon  rising  and  dressing, 
though  daily  the  effort  was  more  difficult.  Every  day  she  would 
go  to  her  wheel  and  spin  slowly  and  feebly,  until  by  fatigue 
she  was  obliged  to  stop  and  throw  herself  upon  the  bed.  To  all 
Hannah's  anxious  questions  she  answered: 

"I  am  very  well!  indeed  there  is  nothing  ails  me;  only  I 
am  so  tired !  " 

One  day  about  this  time  Eeuben  Gray  called  to  see  Hannah. 
Eeuben  was  one  of  the  most  discreet  of  lovers,  never  venturing 
to  visit  his  beloved  more  than  once  in  each  month. 

"  Look  at  Nora ! "  said  Hannah,  in  a  heart-broken  tone,  as 
she  pointed  to  her  sister,  who  was  sitting  at  her  wheel,  not 
spinning,  but  gazing  from  the  window  down  the  narrow  foot- 
path, and  apparently  lost  in  mournful  reverie. 

"  I'll  go  and  fetch  a  medical  man,"  said  Eeuben,  and  he  left 
the  hut  for  that  purpose. 

But  distances  from  house  to  house  in  that  sparsely  settled 
neighborhood  were  great,  and  doctors  were  few  and  could  not 
he  had  the  moment  they  were  called  for.  So  it  was  not  until 
the  next  day  that  Doctor  Potts,  the  round-bodied  little  medical 
attendant  of  the  neighborhood,  made  his  appearance  at  the 
hut. 

He  was  welcomed  by  Hannah,  who  introduced  him  to  her 
sister. 

Nora  received  his  visit  with  a  great  deal  of  nervous  irrita- 
bility, declaring  that  nothing  at  all  ailed  her,  only  that  she 
was  tired. 


34  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE    DEPTHS. 

'  Tired,"  repeated  the  doctor,  as  he  felt  her  pulse  and  watched 
her  countenance.  *'  Yes,  tired  of  living !  a  serious  fatigue  this, 
Hannah.  Her  malady  is  more  on  the  mind  than  the  body! 
You  must  try  to  rouse  her,  take  her  into  company,  keep  her 
amused.  If  you  were  able  to  travel,  I  should  recommend  change 
of  scene;  but  of  course  that  is  out  of  the  question.  However, 
give  her  this,  according  to  the  directions.  I  will  call  in  again 
to  see  her  in  a  few  days."  And  so  saying,  the  doctor  left  a 
bottle  of  medicine  and  took  his  departure. 

That  day  the  doctor  had  to  make  a  professional  visit  of  in- 
spection to  the  negro  quarters  at  Brudenell  Hall ;  so  he  mounted 
his  fat  little  white  cob  and  trotted  down  the  hill  in  the  direction 
of  the  valley. 

When  he  arrived  at  Brudenell  Hall  he  was  met  by  Mrs. 
Brudenell,  who  said  to  him: 

"  Dr.  Potts,  I  wish  before  you  leave,  you  would  see  my  son. 
I  am  seriously  anxious  about  his  health.  He  objected  to  my 
sending  for  you;  but  now  that  you  are  here  on  a  visit  to  the 
quarters,  perhaps  his  objections  may  give  way." 

"  Very  well,  madam ;  but  since  he  does  not  wish  to  be  at- 
tended, perhaps  he  had  better  not  know  that  my  visit  is  to  him; 
1  will  just  make  you  a  call  as  usual." 

"  Join  us  at  lunch,  doctor,  and  you  can  observe  him  at  your 
leisure." 

"  Thank  you,  madam.  What  seems  the  matter  with  Mr. 
Brudenell?" 

"A  general  failure  without  any  particular  disease.  If  it 
were  not  that  I  know  better,  I  would  say  that  something  lay 
heavily  upon  his  mind." 

"  Humph !  a  second  case  of  that  kind  to-day !  Well,  madam, 
I  will  join  you  at  two  o'clock,"  said  the  doctor,  as  he  trotted 
off  towards  the  negro  quarters. 

Punctually  at  the  hour  the  doctor  presented  himself  at  the 
luncheon  table  of  Mrs.  Brudenell.  There  were  present  Mrs. 
Brudenell,  her  two  daughters,  her  son,  and  a  tall,  dark,  dis- 
tinguished looking  man,  whom  the  lady  named  as  Colonel 
Mervin. 

The  conversation,  enlivened  by  a  bottle  of  fine  champagne, 
flowed  briskly  and  cheerfully  around  the  table.  But  through 
all  the  doctor  watched  Herman  Brudenell.  He  was  indeed 
changed.  He  looked  ill,  yet  he  ate,  drank,  laughed,  and  talked 
with  the  best  there.    But  when  his  eye  met  that  of  the  doctor 


THE   FATAL   DEED.  35 

fixed  upon  him,  it  flashed  with  a  threatening  glance  that  seemed 
to  repel  scrutiny. 

The  doctor,  to  turn  the  attention  of  the  lady  from  her  son, 

said : 

"  I  was  at  the  hut  on  the  hill  to-day.  One  of  those  poor  girls, 
the  youngest,  Nora,  I  think  they  call  her,  is  in  a  bad  way.  She 
seems  to  me  to  be  sinking  into  a  decline."  As  he  said  this  he 
happened  to  glance  at  Herman  Brudenell.  That  gentleman's 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  his  with  a  gaze  of  wild  alarm,  but  they 
sank  as  soon  as  noticed. 

"  Poor  creatures !  that  class  of  people  scarcely  ever  get  enough 
to  eat  or  drink,  and  thus  so  many  of  them  die  of  decline  brought 
on  from  insufficiency  of  nourishment.  I  will  send  a  bag  of 
flour  up  to  the  hut  to-morrow,"  said  Mrs.  Brudenell  com- 
placently. 

Soon  after  they  all  arose  from  the  table. 

The  little  doctor  offered  his  arm  to  Mrs.  Brudenell,  and  as 
they  walked  to  the  drawing-room  he  found  an  opportunity  of 
saying  to  her: 

"  It  is,  I  think,  as  you  surmised.  There  is  something  on  his 
mind.  Try  to  flnd  out  what  it  is.  That  is  my  advice.  It  is 
of  no  use  to  tease  him  with  medical  attendance. 

When  they  reached  the  drawing  room  they  found  the  boy 
with  the  mail  bag  waiting  for  his  mistress.  She  quickly  un- 
locked and  distributed  its  contents. 

"Letters  for  everybody  except  myself!  But  here  is  a  late 
copy  of  the  *  London  Times '  with  which  I  can  amuse  myself 
while  you  look  over  your  epistles,  ladies  and  gentlemen,"  said 
Mrs.  Brudenell,  ns  she  settled  herself  to  the  perusal  of  her  paper. 
She  skipped  the  leader,  read  the  court  circular,  and  was  deep  in 
the  column  of  causalties,  when  she  suddenly  cried  out: 

"  Good  Heaven,  Herman !  what  a  catastrophe !  " 

"What  is  it,  mother?" 

"  A  collision  on  the  London  and  Brighton  Railway,  and  ever 
BO  many  killed  or  wounded,  and Gracious  goodness !  " 

"What,  mother?" 

"Among  those  instantly  killed  are  the  Marquis  and  Mar- 
chioness of  Brambleton  and  the  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux !  " 

"  No ! "  cried  the  young  man,  rushing  across  the  room, 
snatching  the  paper  from  his  mother's  hand,  and  with  starting 
eyes  fixed  upon  the  paragraph  that  she  hastily  pointed  out, 
seeming  to  devour,  the  words. 


36  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

A  few  days  after  this  Nora  Worth  sat  propped  up  in  an 
easy-chair  by  the  open  window  that  commanded  the  view  of  the 
Forest  Valley  and  of  the  opposite  hill  crowned  with  the  splendid 
mansion  of  Brudenell  Hall. 

But  Nora  was  not  looking  upon  this  view;  at  least  except 
upon  a  very  small  part  of  it — namely,  the  little  narrow  foot- 
path that  led  down  her  own  hill  and  was  lost  in  the  shade  of  the 
valley.  The  doctor's  prescriptions  had  done  Nora  no  good ;  how 
should  they  ?  Could  he,  more  than  others,  "  minister  to  a  mind 
diseased  "  ?  In  a  word,  she  had  now  grown  so  weak  that  the 
spinning  was  entirely  set  aside,  and  she  passed  her  days  propped 
up  in  the  easy-chair  beside  the  window,  through  which  she  could 
watch  that  little  path,  which  was  now  indeed  so  disused,  so 
neglected  and  grass  grown,  as  to  be  almost  obliterated. 

Suddenly,  while  Nora's  eyes  were  fixed  abstractedly  upon 
this  path,  she  uttered  a  great  cry  and  started  to  her  feet. 

Hannah  stopped  the  clatter  of  her  shuttle  to  see  what  was  the 
matter. 

Nora  was  leaning  from  the  window,  gazing  breathlessly  down 
the  path. 

"  What  is  it,  Nora,  my  dear  ?  Don't  lean  so  far  out ;  you  wiH 
fall!    What  is  it?" 

"  Oh,  Hannali,  he  is  coming !  he  is  coming ! " 

"  Who  is  coming,  my  darling  ?  I  see  no  one !  "  said  the  elder 
sister,  straining  her  eyes  down  the  path. 

"  But  I  feel  him  coming !  He  is  coming  fast !  He  will  be  in 
sight  presently !    There !  what  did  I  tell  you  ?     There  he  is !  " 

And  truly  at  that  moment  Herman  Brudenell  advanced  from 
the  thicket  and  walked  rapidly  up  the  path  towards  the  hut. 

Nora  sank  back  in  her  seat,  overcome,  almost  fainting. 

Another  moment  and  Herman  Brudenell  was  in  the  room, 
clasping  her  form,  and  sobbing : 

"  Nora !  Nora,  my  beloved !  my  beautiful !  you  have  been  ill 
and  I  knew  it  not !  dying,  and  I  knew  it  not !     Oh  !  oh !  oh !  " 

"  Yes,  but  I  am  well,  now  that  you  are  here !"  gasped  the  girl,, 
as  she  thrilled  and  trembled  with  returning  life.  But  the 
moment  this  confession  had  been  surprised  from  her  she 
blushed  fiery  red  to  the  very  tips  of  her  ears  and  hid  her  face 
in  the  pillows  of  her  chair. 

"My  darling  girl!  My  own  blessed  girl!  do  not  turn  your 
face  away !  look  at  me  with  your  sweet  eyes  I  See,  I  am 
here  at  your  side,  telling  you  how  deep  my  own  sorrow  had  been 


THE   FATAL   DEED.  37 

at  the  separation  from  you,  and  how  much  deeper  at  the  thought 
that  you  also  have  suffered !  Look  at  me !  Smile  on  me !  Speak 
to  me,  beloved !     I  am  your  own !  " 

These  and  many  other  wild,  tender,  pleading  words  of  love 
he  breathed  in  the  ear  of  the  listening,  blushing,  happy  girl; 
both  quite  heedless  of  the  presence  of  Hannah,  who  stood  petri- 
fied with  consternation. 

At  length,  however,  by  the  time  Herman  had  seated  himself 
beside  Nora,  Hannah  recovered  her  presence  of  mind  and  power 
of  motion ;  and  she  went  to  him  and  said : 

"  Mr.  Brudenell !  Is  this  well  ?  Could  you  not  leave  her  in. 
peace  ? " 

"  No,  I  could  not  leave  her !  Yes,  it  is  well,  Hannah !  The 
burden  I  spoke  of  is  unexpectedly  lifted  from  my  life !  I  am 
a  restored  man.  And  I  have  come  here  to-day  to  ask  Nora, 
in  youi'  presence,  and  with  your  consent,  to  be  my  wife !  " 

"  And  with  your  mother's  consent,  Mr.  Brudenell  ?  " 

"  Hannah,  that  was  unkind  of  you  to  throw  a  damper  upon 
my  joy.  And  look  at  me,  I  have  not  been  in  such  robust  health 
myself  since  you  drove  me  away !  " 

As  he  said  this,  Nora's  hand,  which  he  held,  closed  convul- 
sively on  his,  and  she  murmured  under  her  breath : 

"  Have  you  been  ill  ?    You  are  not  pale !  " 

"  No,  love,  I  was  only  sad  at  our  long  separation ;  now  you 
see  I  am  flushed  with  joy;  for  now  I  shall  see  you  every  day!  " 
he  replied,  lifting  her  hand  to  his  lips. 

Hannah  was  dreadfully  disturbed.  She  was  delighted  to 
see  life,  and  light,  and  color  flowing  back  to  her  sister's  face; 
but  she  was  dismayed  at  the  very  cause  of  this — the  presence 
of  Herman  Brudenell.  The  instincts  of  her  affections  and  the 
sense  of  her  duties  were  at  war  in  her  bosom.  The  latter  as 
yet  was  in  the  ascendency.  It  was  under  its  influence  she  spoke 
again. 

"But,  Mr.  Brudenell,  your  mother?" 

"Hannah!  Hannah!  don't  be  disagreeable!  You  are  too 
young  to  play  duenna  yet !  "  he  said   gayly. 

"  I  do  not  know  what  you  mean  by  duenna,  Mr.  Brudenell, 
but  I  know  what  is  due  to  your  mother,"  replied  the  elder  sister 
gravely. 

"Mother,  mother,  mother;  how  tiresome  you  are,  Hannah, 
everlastingly  repeating  the  same  word  over  and  over  again! 
You  shall  not  make  us  miserable.    We  intend  to  be  happy,  now. 


38  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

Nora  and  myself.  Do  we  not,  dearest  ? "  he  added,  changing 
the  testy  tone  in  which  he  had  spoken  to  the  elder  sister  for 
one  of  the  deepest  tenderness  as  he  turned  and  addressed  the 
younger. 

"  Yes,  but,  your  mother,"  murmured  ISTora  very  softly  and 
timidly. 

"  You  too !  Decidedly  that  word  is  infectious,  like  yawning  I 
Well,  my  dears,  since  you  will  bring  it  on  the  tapis,  let  us  dis- 
cuss and  dismiss  it.  My  mother  is  a  very  fine  woman,  Hannah; 
but  she  is  unreasonable,  Nora.  She  is  attached  to  what  she  calls 
her  '  order,'  my  dears,  and  never  would  consent  to  my  marriage 
with  any  other  than  a  lady  of  rank  and  wealth." 

"  Then  you  must  give  up  Nora,  Mr.  Brudenell,"  said  Hannah 
gravely. 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  assented  poor  Nora,  under  her  breath,  and 
turning  pale. 

"  May  the  Lord  give  me  up  if  I  do !  "  cried  the  young  man 
impetuously. 

"  You  will  never  defy  your  mother,"  said  Hannah, 

"  Oh,  no !  oh,  no !  I  should  be  frightened  to  death,"  gasped 
Nora,  trembling  between  weakness  and  fear. 

"  No,  I  will  never  defy  my  mother ;  there  are  other  ways 
of  doing  things;  I  must  marry  Nora,  and  we  must  keep  the 
affair  quiet  for  a  time." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,"  said  Hannah  coldly. 

"  Nora  does,  though !  Do  you  not,  my  darling  ?  "  exclaimed 
Herman  triumphantly. 

And  the  blushing  but  joyous  face  of  Nora  answered  him. 

"  You  say  you  will  not  defy  your  mother.  Do  you  mean  then 
to  deceive  her,  Mr.  Brudenell  ? "  inquired  the  elder  sister 
severely. 

"  Hannah,  don't  be  abusive !  This  is  just  the  whole  matter, 
in  brief.  I  am  twenty-one,  master  of  myself  and  my  estate. 
I  could  marry  Nora  at  any  time,  openly,  without  my  mother's 
consent.  But  that  would  give  her  great  pain.  It  would  not  kill 
her,  nor  make  her  ill,  but  it  would  wound  her  in  her  tenderest 
points — her  love  of  her  son,  and  her  love  of  rank ;  it  would  pro- 
duce an  open  rupture  between  us.  She  would  never  forgive  me, 
nor  acknowledge  my  wife." 

"  Then  why  do  you  speak  at  all  of  marrying  Nora  ?  "  inter- 
rupted Hannah    angrily, 

Herman  turned  and  looked  at  Nora.     That  mute  look  was 


'^  THE    FATAL    DEED.  39 

his  only  answer,  and  it  was  eloquent ;  it  said  plainly  what  his 
lips  forbore  to  speak :  "  I  have  won  her  love,  and  I  ought  to 
marry  her;  for  if  I  do  not,  she  will  die." 

Then  he  continued  as  if  Hannah  had  not  interrupted  him : 

"  I  wish  to  get  on  as  easily  as  I  can  between  these  conflicting 
difficulties.  I  will  not  wrong  Nora,  and  I  will  not  grieve  my 
mother.  The  only  way  to  avoid  doing  either  will  be  for  me  to 
marry  my  darling  privately,  and  keep  the  aSair  a  secret  until  a 
fitting  opportunity  offers  to  publish  it." 

"  A  secret  marriage !  Mr.  Brudenell !  is  that  what  you  pro- 
pose to  my  sister? " 

"Why  not,  Hannah?" 

"  Secret  marriages  are  terrible  things !  " 

"  Disappointed  affections,  broken  hearts,  early  graves,  are 
more  terrible." 

"  Fudge !  "  was  the  word  that  rose  to  Hannah's  lips,  as  she 
looked  at  the  young  man;  but  when  she  turned  to  her  sister 
she  felt  that  his  words  might  be  true. 

"  Besides,  Hannah,"  he  continued,  "  this  will  not  be  a  secret 
marriage.  You  cannot  call  that  a  secret  which  will  be  known 
to  four  persons — the  parson,  you,  Nora,  and  myself.  I  shall  not 
even  bind  you  or  Nora  to  keep  the  secret  longer  than  you  think 
it  her  interest  to  declare  it.  She  shall  have  the  marriage  certifi- 
cate in  her  own  keeping,  and  evei-y  legal  protection  and  defense ; 
so  that  even  if  I  should  die  suddenly " 

Nora  gasped  for  breath, 

— "  she  would  be  able  to  claim  and  establish  her  rights  and 
position  in  the  world.  Hannah,  you  must  see  that  I  mean  to 
act  honestly  and  honorably,"  said  the  young  man,  in  an  earnest 
tone. 

"I  see  that  you  do;  but,  Mr.  Brudenell,  it  appears  to  me 
that  the  fatal  weakness  of  which  you  have  already  spoken  to 
me — the  '  propensity  to  please ' — is  again  leading  you  into  error. 
You  wish  to  save  Nora,  and  you  wish  to  spare  your  mother; 
and  to  do  both  these  things,  you  are  sacrificing " 

"What,  Hannah?" 

"  Well — fair,  plain,  open,  straight-forward,  upright  dealing, 
such  as  should  always  exist  between  man  and  woman." 

"  Hannah,  you  are  unjust  to  me !  Am  I  not  fair,  plain,  open, 
straight-forward,  upright,  and  all  the  rest  of  it  in  my  dealing 
with  you  ?  " 

"With  us,  yes;  but ^" 


40  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS.  • 

"  With  my  mother  it  is  necessary  to  be  cautious.  It  is  true 
that  she  has  no  right  to  oppose  my  marriage  with  Nora;  but 
yet  she  would  oppose  it,  even  to  death!  Therefore,  to  save 
trouble  and  secure  peace,  I  would  marry  my  dear  Nora  quietly. 
Mystery,  Hannah,  is  not  necessarily  guilt;  it  is  often  wisdom 
and  mercy.  Do  not  object  to  a  little  harmless  mystery,  that  is 
besides  to  secure  peace !    Come,  Hannah,  what  say  you  'i  " 

"  How  long  must  this  marriage,  should  it  take  place,  be  kept 
a  secret  ? "  inquired  Hannah    uneasily. 

"  Not  one  hour  longer  than  you  and  Nora  think  it  necessary 
that  it  should  be  declared !  Still,  I  should  beg  your  forbearance 
as  long  as  possible.    Come,  Hannah,  your  answer !  " 

"  I  must  have  time  to  reflect.    I  fear  I  should  be  doing  very 

wrong  to  consent  to  this  marriage,  and  yet — and  yet But  I 

must  take  a  night  to  think  of  it!    To-morrow,  Mr.  Brudenell, 
I  will  give  you  an  answer  1 " 

With  this  reply  the  young  man  was  obliged  to  be  contented. 
Soon  after  he  arose  and  took  his  leave. 

When  he  was  quite  out  of  hearing  Nora  arose  and  threw 
herself  into  her  sister's  arms,  crying : 

"  Oh,  Hannah,  consent !  consent !  I  cannot  live  without 
him!" 

The  elder  sister  caressed  the  younger  tenderly;  told  her  of 
all  the  dangers  of  a  secret  marriage;  of  all  the  miseries  of  an 
ill-sorted  one;  and  implored  her  to  dismiss  her  wealthy  lover, 
and  struggle  with  her  misplaced  love. 

Nora  replied  only  with  tears  and  sobs,  and  vain  repetitions 
of  the  words : 

"  I  cannot  live  without  him,  Hannah !  I  cannot  live  with- 
out him !  " 

Alas,  for  weakness,  willfulness,  and  passion!  They,  and  not 
w^ise  counsels,  gained  the  day.  Nora  would  not  give  up  her 
lover ;  would  not  struggle  with  her  love ;  but  would  have  her  own 
way. 

At  length,  in  yielding  a  reluctant  acquiesence,  Hannah 
said: 

"  I  would  never  countenance  tliis — never,  Nora !  but  for  one 
reason;  it  is  that  I  know,  whether  I  consent  or  not,  you  two, 
weak  and  willful  and  passionate  as  you  are,  will  rush  into  this 
imprudent  marriage  all  the  same!  And  I  think  for  your  bake 
it  had  better  take  place  with  my  sanction,  and  in  my  presence, 
than  otherwise." 


•  LOVE   AND    FATE.  41 

ITora  clasped  her  sister's  neck  and  covered  her  face  with, 
kisses. 

"  He  means  well  by  us,  dear  Hannah — indeed  he  does,  bless 
him!  So  do  not  look  so  grave  because  we  are  going  to  be 
happy," 

Had  Herman  felt  sure  of  his  answer  the  next  day  ?  It  really 
seemed  so ;  for  when  he  made  his  appearance  at  the  cottage  in 
the  morning  he  brought  the  marriage  license  in  his  pocket 
and  a  peripatetic  minister  in  his  company. 

And  before  the  astonished  sisters  had  time  to  recover  their 
self-possession  Herman  Brudenell's  will  had  carried  his  pur- 
pose, and  the  marriage  ceremony  was  performed.  The  minister 
then  wrote  out  the  certificate,  which  was  signed  by  himself, 
and  witnessed  by  Hannah,  and  handed  it  to  the  bride. 

"  Now,  dearest  Nora,"  whispered  the  triumphant  bridegroom, 
"  I  am  happy,  and  you  are  safe !  " 

!Bufc — were  either  of  them  really  safe  or  happy? 


CHAPTER  V. 

LOVE  AND  FATE. 

Amid  the  sylvan  solitude 

Of  unshorn  grass  and  waving  wood 

And  waters  glancing  bright  and  fast, 
A  softened  voice  was  in  her  ear, 

Sweet  as  those  lulling  sounds  and  fin© 
The  hunter  lifts  his  head  to  hear, 
Now  far  and  faint,  now  full  and  near — 

The  murmur  of  the  wood  swept  pine, 
A  manly  form  was  ever  nigh, 
A  bold,  free  hunter,  with  an  eye 

Whose  dark,  keen  glance  had  power  to  wa&e 
Both  fear  and  love — to  awe  and  charm. 
Taded  the  world  that  they  had  known, 

A  poor  vain  shadow,  cold  and  waste, 
In  the  warm  present  bliss  alone 

Seemed  they  of  actual  life  to  taste. 

—  Whittier. 

It  Was  in  the  month  of  June  they  were  married;  when 
the  sun  shone  with  his  brightest  splendor;  when  the  sky  was 
of  the  clearest  blue;  when  the  grass  was  of  the  freshest  green, 
the  woods  in  their  fullest  foliage,  the  flowers  in  their  richest 
bloom,  and  all  nature  in  her  most  luxuriant  life!  Yes,  June 
was  "^heir  honeymoon;  the  forest  shades  their  bridal  halls,  and 


42  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  LN"   THE    DEPl^HS.  % 

birds  and  flowers  and  leaves  and  rills  their  train  of  attendants. 
For  weeks  they  lived  a  kind  of  fairy  life,  wandering  together 
through  the  depths  of  the  valley  forest,  discovering  through  the 
illumination  of  their  love  new  beauties  and  glories  in  the  earth 
and  sky;  new  sympathies  with  every  form  of  life.  Were  ever 
suns  so  bright,  skies  so  clear,  and  woods  so  green  as  theirs, 
in  this  month  of  beauty,  love,  and  joy! 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  I  must  have  been  deaf  and  blind  and 
stupid  in  the  days  before  I  knew  you,  Herman!  for  then  the 
sun  seemed  only  to  shine,  and  now  I  feel  that  he  smiles  as  well 
as  shines;  then  the  trees  only  seemed  to  bend  under  a  passing 
breeze,  now  I  know  they  stoop  to  caress  us;  then  the  flowers 
seemed  only  to  be  crowded,  now  I  know  they  draw  together  to 
kiss ;  then  indeed  I  loved  nature,  but  now  I  know  that  she  also 
is  alive  and  loves  me ! "  said  ISTora,  one  day,  as  they  sat  upon  a 
bank  of  wild  thyme  under  the  spreading  branches  of  an  old 
oak  tree  that  stood  alone  in  a  little  opening  of  the  forest. 

"  You  darling  of  nature !  you  might  have  known  that  all 
along ! "  exclaimed  Herman,  enthusiastically  pressing  her  to 
his  heart. 

"  Oh,  how  good  you  are  to  love  me  so  much !  you — so  high, 
so  learned,  so  wealthy ;  you  who  have  seen  so  many  fine  ladies — 
to  come  down,  to  me,  a  poor,  ignorant,  weaver-girl  I "  said  Nora 
humbly — for  true  love  in  many  a  woman  is  ever  most  humble 
and  most  idolatrous,  abasing  itself  and  idolizing  its  object. 

"  Come  down  to  you,  my  angel  and  my  queen !  to  you,  whose 
beauty  is  so  heavenly  and  so  royal  that  it  seems  to  me  every- 
one should  worship  and  adore  you!  how  could  I  come  down  to 
you !  Ah,  ISTora,  it  seems  to  me  that  it  is  you  who  have  stooped 
to  me !  There  are  kings  on  this  earth,  my  beloved,  who  might 
be  proud  to  place  such  regal  beauty  on  their  thrones  beside 
them !  For,  oh !  you  are  as  beautiful,  my  Nora,  as  any  woman 
of  old,  for  whom  heroes  lost  worlds !  " 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  do  you  rea.lly  think  so  ?  I  am  so  glad 
for  your  sake !  I  wish  I  were  ten  times  as  beautiful !  and  high- 
bom,  and  learned,  and  accomplished,  and  wealthy,  and  every- 
thing else  that  is  good,  for  your  sake!  Herman,  I  would  be 
willing  to  pass  through  a  fiery  furnace  if  by  doing  so  I  could 
come  out  like  refined  gold,  for  your  sake ! " 

"  Hush,  hush,  sv/eet  love !  that  fiery  furnace  of  which  yon 
speak  is  the  Scriptural  symbol  for  fearful  trial  and  intense 
suffering!  far  be  it  from  you!  for  I  would  rather  my  whole 


•  LOVE   AND    FATE.  43 

body  were  coBsnmed  to  ashes  than  one  shining  tress  of  yoiir 
raven  hair  should  be  singed !  " 

"  But,  Herman !  one  of  the  books  you  read  to  me  said :  '  All 
that  is  good  must  be  toiled  for;  all  that  is  best  must  be  suffered 
for ' ;  and  I  am  willing  to  do  or  bear  anything  in  the  world  that 
wovdd  make  me  more  worthy  of  you !  " 

"My  darling,  you  are  worthy  of  a  monarch,  and  much  too 
good  for  me !  " 

"  How  kind  you  are  to  say  so !  but  for  all  that  I  know  I  am 
only  a  poor,  humble,  ignorant  girl,  quite  unfit  to  be  your  wife ! 
And,  oh !  sometimes  it  makes  me  very  sad  to  think  so !  "  said 
IsTora,  with  a  deep  sigh. 

"  Then  do  not  think  so,  my  own !  why  should  you  ?  You 
are  beautiful;  you  are  good;  you  are  lovely  and  beloved,  and 
you  ought  to  be  happy !  "  exclaimed  Herman. 

"  Oh,  I  am  happy !  very  happy  now !  For  whatever  I  do  or 
say,  right  or  wrong,  is  good  in  your  eyes,  and  pleases  you  be- 
cause you  love  me  so  much.  God  bless  you !  God  love  you ! 
God  save  you,  whatever  becomes  of  your  poor  Nora !  "  she  said, 
with  a  still  heavier  sigh. 

At  this  moment  a  soft  summer  cloud  floated  between  them 
and  the  blazing  meridian  sun,  veiling  its  glory. 

"  Why,  what  is  the  matter,  love  ?  What  has  come,  over  you  ?  " 
inquired  Herman,  gently  caressing  her. 

"  I  do  not  know ;  nothing  more  than  that  perhaps,"  answered 
Nora,  pointing  to  the  cloud  that  was  now  passing  over  the 
sun. 

" '  Nothing  more  than  that.'  Well,  that  has  now  passed, 
so  smile  forth  again,  my  sun ! "  said  Herman   gayly. 

"  Ah,  dear  Herman,  if  this  happy  life  could  only  last !  this 
life  in  which  we  wander  or  repose  in  these  beautiful  summer 
woods,  among  rills  and  flowers  and  birds !  Oh,  it  is  like  the 
Arcadia  of  which  you  read  to  me  in  your  books,  Herman !  Ah, 
if  it  would  only  last !  " 

"Why  should  it  not,  love?" 

"  Because  it  cannot.  Winter  will  come  with  its  wind  and 
snow  and  ice.  The  woods  will  be  bare,  the  grass  dry,  the  flowers 
all  withered,  the  streams  frozen,  and  the  birds  gone  away,  and 

we "    Here  her  voice  sank  into  silence,  but  Herman  took  up 

the  word : 

"Well,  and  we,  beloved!  we  shall  pass  to  something  much 
better !    We  are  not  partridges  or  squirrels  to  live  in  the  woods 


44  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  EST   THE   DEPTHS.  * 

and  fields  all  winter!  We  shall  go  to  our  own  luxurious  home! 
You  will  be  my  loved  and  honored  and  happy  wife ;  the  mistress 
of  an  elegant  house,  a  fine  estate,  and  many  negroes.  You  will 
have  superb  furniture,  beautiful  dresses,  splendid  jewels,  serv- 
ants to  attend  you,  carriages,  horses,  pleasure  boats,  and  every- 
thing else  that  heart  could  wish,  or  money  buy,  or  love  find  to 
make  you  happy!  Think!  oh,  think  of  all  the  joys  that  are  in 
store  for  you !  " 

"  Not  for  me !  Oh,  not  for  me  those  splendors  and  luxuries 
and  joys  that  you  speak  of!  They  are  too  good  for  me;  I 
shall  never  possess  them;  I  know  it,  Herman;  and  I  knew  it 
even  in  that  hoiir  of  heavenly  bliss  when  you  first  told  me  you 
loved  me!  I  knew  it  even  when  we  stood  before  the  minister 
to  be  married,  and  I  know  it  still !  This  short  summer  of  love 
will  be  all  the  joy  I  shall  ever  have." 

"In  the  name  of  Heaven,  Nora,  what  do  you  mean?  Is  it 
possible  that  you  can  imagine  I  shall  ever  be  false  to  you  ? " 
passionately  demanded  the  young  man,  who  was  deeply  im- 
pressed at  last  by  the  sad  earnestness  of  her  manner. 

"  No !  no !  no !  I  never  imagine  anything  unworthy  of  your 
gentle  and  noble  nature,"  said  Nora,  with  fervent  emphasis 
as  she  pressed  closer  to  his  side. 

"  Then  why,  why,  do  you  torture  yourself  and  me  with  these 
dark  previsions  ? " 

"  I  do  not  know.  Forgive  me,  Herman,"  softly  sighed  Nora, 
laying  her  cheek  against  his  own. 

He  stole  his  arm  around  her  waist,  and  as  he  drew  her  to  his 
heart,  murmured: 

"  Why  should  you  not  enjoy  all  the  wealth,  rank,  and  love 
to  which  you  are  entitled  as  my  wife  ? " 

"  Ah !  dear  Herman,  I  cannot  tell  why.  I  only  know  that  I 
never  shall!  Bear  with  me,  dear  Herman,  while  I  say  this: 
After  I  had  learned  to  love  you;  after  I  had  grieved  myself 
almost  to  death  for  your  absence;  when  you  returned  and  asked 
me  to  be  your  wife,  I  seemed  suddenly  to  have  passed  from  dark- 
ness into  radiant  light!  But  in  the  midst  of  it  all  I  seemed 
to  hear  a  voice  in  my  heart,  saying :  '  Poor  moth !  you  are  bask- 
ing in  a  consuming  fire;  you  will  presently  fall  to  the  ground 
a  burnt,  blackened,  tortured,  and  writhing  thing.'  And,  Her- 
man, when  I  thought  of  the  great  difference  between  us;  of 
your  old  family,  high  rank,  and  vast  wealth;  and  of  your  mag- 
nificent house,  and  your  stately  lady  mother  and  fine  lady  sis- 


LOVE    AND    FATE.  4 


r 


ters,  I  knew  that  though  you  had  married  me,  I  never  could  be 
owned  as  your  wife " 

"  Nora,  if  it  were  possible  for  me  to  be  angry  with  you,  I 
should  be  so !  "  interrupted  Herman  vehemently ;  "  '  you  never 
could  be  owned  as  my  wife ! '  I  tell  you  that  you  can  be — 
and  that  you  shall  be,  and  very  soon!  It  was  only  to  avoid  a 
rupture  with  my  mother  that  I  married  you  privately  at  all. 
Have  I  not  surrounded  you  with  every  legal  security?  Have 
I  not  armed  you  even  against  myself?  Do  you  not  know  that 
even  if  it  were  possible  for  me  to  turn  rascal,  and  become  so 
mean,  and  miserable,  and  dishonored  as  to  desert  you,  you  could 
still  demand  your  rights  as  a  wife,  and  compel  me  to  yield 
them!" 

"  As  if  I  would !  Oh,  Herman,  as  if  I  would  depend  upon 
anything  but  your  dear  love  to  give  me  all  I  need!  Armed 
against  you,  am  I  ?  I  do  not  choose  to  be  so !  It  is  enough  for 
me  to  know  that  I  am  your  wife.  I  do  not  care  to  be  able  to 
prove  it ;  for,  Herman,  were  it  possible  for  you  to  forsake  me, 
I  should  not  insist  upon  my  '  rights ' — I  should  die.  There- 
fore, why  should  I  be  armed  with  legal  proofs  against  you,  my 
Herman,  my  life,  my  soul,  my  self  ?  I  will  not  continue  so ! " 
And  with  a  generous  abandonment  she  drew  from  her  bosom 
the  marriage  certificate,  tore  it  to  pieces,  and  scattered  it 
abroad,  saying :  "  There  now !  I  had  kept  it  as  a  love  token, 
close  to  my  heart,  little  knowing  it  was  a  cold-blooded,  cautious, 
legal  proof,  else  it  should  have  gone  before,  where  it  has  gone 
now,  to  the  winds !  There  now,  Hennan,  I  am  your  own  wife, 
your  own  Nora,  quite  unarmed  and  defenseless  before  you; 
trusting  only  to  your  faith  for  my  happiness;  knowing  that 
you  will  never  willingly  forsake  me;  but  feeling  that  if  you 
do,  I  should  not  pursue  you,  but  die ! " 

"Dear  trusting  girl!  would  you  indeed  deprive  yourself 
of  all  defenses  thus?  But,  my  Nora,  did  you  suppose  when  I 
took  you  to  my  bosom  that  I  had  intrusted  your  peace  and 
safety  and  honor  only  to  a  scrap  of  perishable  paper?  No, 
Nora,  no!  Infidelity  to  you  is  forever  impossible  to  me;  but 
death  is  always  possible  to  all  persons;  and  so,  though  I  could 
never  forsake  you,  I  might  die  and  leave  you;  and  to  guard 
against  the  consequences  of  such  a  contingency  I  surrounded 
you  with  every  legal  security.  The  minister  that  married  us 
resides  in  this  county;  the  witness  that  attended  us  lives  with 
you.     So  that  if  to-morrow  I  should  die,  you  could  claim,  as 


46  ishmael;  oe,  in  the  depths. 

my  widow,  your  half  of  my  personal  property  and  your  life- 
interest  in  my  estate.  And  if  to-morrow  you  should  become 
impatient  of  your  condition  as  a  secreted  wife,  and  wish  to 
enter  upon  all  the  honors  of  Brudenell  Hall,  you  have  the 
power  to  do  so !  " 

"As  if  I  would!  As  if  it  was  for  that  I  loved  you!  oh, 
Herman ! " 

"  I  know  you  would  not,  love !  And  I  know  it  was  not  for 
that  you  loved  me!  I  have  perfect  confidence  in  your  dis- 
interestedness.   And  I  hope  you  have  as  much  in  mine." 

"  I  have,  Herman.     I  have !  " 

"  Then,  to  go  back  to  the  first  question,  why  did  you  wound 
me  by  saying,  that  though  I  had  married  you,  you  knew  you 
never  could  be  owned  as  my  wife  ?  " 

"  I  spoke  from  a  deep  conviction !  Oh,  Herman,  I  know 
you  will  never  willingly  forsake  me;  but  I  feel  you  will  never 
acknowledge  me ! " 

"  Then  you  must  think  me  a  villain !  "  said  Herman   bitterly. 

"  No,  no,  no ;  I  think,  if  you  must  have  my  thoughts,  you  are 
the  gentlest,  truest,  and  noblest  among  men." 

"  You  cannot  get  away  from  the  point ;  if  you  think  I  could 
desert  you,  you  must  think  I  am  a  villain !  " 

"  Oh,  no,  no !  besides,  I  did  not  say  you  would  desert  me !  I 
said  you  would  never  own  me ! " 

"  It   is   in   effect   the   same   thing." 

"  Herman,  understand  me :  when  I  say,  from  the  deep  con- 
viction I  feel,  that  you  will  never  own  me,  I  also  say  that  you 
will  be  blameless." 

"  Those  two  things  are  incompatible,  Nora !  But  why  do 
you  persist  in  asserting  that  you  will  never  be  ovrned  ? " 

"  Ah,  dear  me,  because  it  is  true!  " 

"  But  why  do  you  think  it  is  true? " 

"  Because  when  I  try  to  imagine  our  future,  I  see  only  my 
own  humble  hut,  with  its  spinning-wheel  and  loom.  And  I  feel 
I  shall  never  live  in  Brudenell  Hall !  " 

"  Nora,  hear  rae :  this  is  near  the  first  of  July ;  in  six  months, 
that  is  before  the  first  of  January,  whether  I  live  or  die,  as  my 
wife  or  as  my  widow,  you  shall  rule  at  Brudenell  Hall !  " 

Nora  smiled,  a  strange,  sad  smile. 

"  Listen,  dearest,"  he  continued ;  "  my  mother  leaves  Brude- 
nell in  December.  She  thinks  the  two  young  ladies,  my  sisters, 
should  have  more  society;  so  she  has  purchased  a  fine  house 


A    SECRET    IlEVEALED.  47 

in  a  fashionable  quarter  of  Washington  City.  The  workmen 
are  now  busy  decorating  and  furnishing  it.  She  takes  posses- 
sion of  it  early  in  December.  Then,  my  Nora,  when  my  mother 
and  sisters  are  clear  of  Brudenell  Hall,  and  settled  in  their 
town-house,  I  will  bring  you  home  and  write  and  announce 
our  marriage.  Thus  there  can  be  no  noise.  People  cannot 
quarrel  very  long  or  fiercely  through  the  post.  And  finally 
time  and  reflection  will  reconcile  my  mother  to  the  inevitable, 
and  we  shall  be  all  once  more  united  and  happy." 

"  Herman  dear,"  said  Nora  softly,  "  indeed  my  heart  is  to- 
ward your  mother;  I  could  love  and  revere  and  serve  her  as 
dutifully  as  if  I  were  her  daughter,  if  she  would  only  deign 
to  let  me.  And,  at  any  rate,  whether  she  will  or  not,  I  cannot 
help  loving  and  honoring  her,  because  she  is  your  mother  and 
loves  you.  And,  oh,  Herman,  if  she  could  look  into  my  heart 
and  see  how  truly  I  love  you,  her  son,  how  gladly  I  would  suffer 
to  make  you  happy,  and  how  willing  I  should  be  to  live  in  utter 
poverty  and  obscurity,  if  it  would  be  for  your  good,  I  do  think 
she  would  love  me  a  little  for  your  sake !  " 

"  Heaven  grant  it,  my  darling !  " 

"  But  be  sure  of  this,  dear  Herman.  No  matter  how  she  may 
think  it  good  to  treat  me,  I  can  never  be  angry  with  her.  I 
must  always  love  her  and  seek  her  favor,  for  she  is  your 
mother." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

•      A  SECRET  REVEALED. 

Full  soon  upon  that  dream  of  sin 
An  awful  light  came  bursting  in  ; 
The  shrine  was  cold  at  which  she  knelt; 

The  idol  of  that  shrine  was  gone  ; 
An  humbled  thing  of  shame  and  guilt  ; 
Outcast  and  spurned  and  lone, 
Wrapt  in  the  shadows  of  that  crime, 

With  withered  heart  and  burning  brain. 

And  tears  that  fell  like  tier}'  rain, 
She  passed  a  fearful  time. 

—  Whittier. 

Thus  in  pleasant  wandering  through  the  wood  and  sweet 
repose  beneath  the  trees  the  happy  lovers  passed  the  blooming 
months  of  summer  and  the  glowing  months  of  autumn. 

But  when  the  seasons  changed  again,  and  with  the  last  day8 


48  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  m   THE   DEPTHS. 

of  November  came  the  bleak  northwestern  winds  that  stripped 
the  last  leaves  from  the  bare  trees,  and  covered  the  ground 
with  snow  and  bound  up  the  streams  with  ice,  and  drove  the 
birds  to  the  South,  the  lovers  withdrew  within  doors,  and  spent 
many  hours  beside  the  humble  cottage  fireside. 

Here  for  the  first  time  Herman  had  ample  opportunity  of 
■finding  out  how  very  poor  the  sisters  really  were,  and  how  very 
hard  one  of  them  at  least  worked. 

And  from  the  abundance  of  his  own  resources  he  would  have 
supplied  their  wants  and  relieved  them  from  this  excess  of  toil , 
but  that  there  was  a  reserve  of  honest  pride  in  these  poor  girls 
that  forbade  them  to  accept  his  pressing  offers. 

"  But  this  is  my  own  family  now,"  said  Herman.  "  Nora 
is  my  wife  and  Hannah  is  my  sister-in-law,  and  it  is  equally 
my  duty  and  pleasure  to  provide  for  them." 

"  No,  Herman !  No,  dear  Herman !  we  cannot  be  considered 
as  your  family  until  you  publicly  acknowledge  us  as  such.  Dear 
Herman,  do  not  think  me  cold  or  ungrateful,  when  I  say  to  you 
that  it  would  give  me  pain  and  mortification  to  receive  anything 
from  you,  until  I  do  so  as  your  acknowledged  wife,"  said  Nora. 

"  You  give  everything — you  give  your  hand,  your  heart,  your- 
self !  and  you  will  take  nothing,"  said  the  young  man  sadly. 

"  Yes,  I  take  as  much  as  I  give !  I  take  your  hand,  your  heart, 
and  yourself  in  return  for  mine.  That  is  fair;  but  I  will  take 
no  more  until  as  your  wife  I  take  the  head  of  your  establish- 
ment," said  Nora    proudly. 

"  Hannah,  is  this  right  ?  She  is  my  wife ;  she  promised  to 
obey  me,  and  she  defies  me — I  ask  you  is  this  right  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Brudenell.  When  she  is  your  acknowledged  wife, 
in  your  house,  then  she  will  obey  and  never  '  defy '  you,  as  you 
call  it;  but  now  it  is  quite  different;  she  has  not  the  shield  of 
your  name,  and  she  must  take  care  of  her  own  self-respect  until 
you  relieve  her  of  the  charge,"  said  the  elder  sister   gravely. 

"  Hannah,  you  are  a  terrible  duenna !  You  would  be  an 
acquisition  to  some  crabbed  old  Spaniard  who  had  a  beautiful 
young  wife  to  look  after !  Now  I  want  you  to  tell  me  how  on 
earth  my  burning  up  that  old  loom  and  wheel,  and  putting  a 
little  comfortable  furniture  in  this  room,  and  paying  you  suffi- 
<!ient  to  support  you  both,  can  possibly  hurt  her  self-respect  ?  '* 
demanded  Herman. 

"  It  will  do  more  than  that !  it  will  hurt  her  character,  Mr. 
3rudenell;  and  that  should  be  as  dear  to  you  as  to  herself." 


A    SECKET    KEVEALED.  49 

<(► 

"  It  is !  it  is  the  dearest  thing  in  life  to  me !  But  how  should 
■what  I  propose  to  do  hurt  either  her  self-respect  or  her  char- 
acter ?     You  have  not  told  me  that  yet !  " 

"  This  way,  Mr.  Brudenell !  If  we  were  to  accept  your  offers, 
our  neighbors  would  talk  of  us." 

"  Neighbors !  why,  Hannah,  what  neighbors  have  you  ?  In 
aU  the  months  that  I  have  been  coming  here,  I  have  not 
chanced  to  meet  a  single  soul !  " 

"  No,  you  have  not.  And  if  you  had,  once  in  a  way,  met  any- 
one here,  they  would  have  taken  you  to  be  a  mere  passer-by 
resting  yourself  in  our  hut ;  but  if  you  were  to  make  us  as  com- 
fortable as  you  wish,  why  the  very  first  chance  visitor  to  the 
hut  who  would  see  that  the  loom  and  the  spinning-wheel  and 
old  furniture  were  gone,  and  were  replaced  by  the  fine  carpet, 
curtains,  chairs,  and  sofa  that  you  wish  to  give  us,  would  go 
away  and  tell  the  wonder.  And  people  would  say :  *  Where  did 
Hannah  Worth  get  these  things  ? '  or,  '  How  do  they  live  ? '  or, 
*  Who  supports  those  girls  ? '  and  so  on.  Now,  Mr.  Brudenell, 
those  are  questions  I  will  not  have  asked  about  myself  and  my 
sister,  and  that  you  ought  not  to  wish  to  have  asked  about  your 
wife !  " 

"  Hannah,  you  are  quite  right !  You  always  are !  And  yet 
it  distresses  me  to  see  you  living  and  working  as  you  do." 

"  We  are  inured  to  it,  Mr.  Brudenell." 

"  But  it  will  not  be  for  long,  Hannah.  Very  soon  my  mother 
and  sisters  go  to  take  possession  of  their  new  house  in  Wash- 
ington. When  they  have  left  Brudenell  I  will  announce  our 
marriage  and  bring  you  and  your  sister  home." 

"  Not  me,  Mr.  Brudenell !  I  have  said  before  that  in  marry- 
ing Nora  you  did  not  marry  all  her  poor  relatives.  I  have  told 
you  that  I  will  not  share  the  splendors  of  Nora's  destiny.  No 
one  shall  have  reason  to  say  of  me,  as  they  would  say  if  I  went 
home  with  you,  that  I  had  connived  at  the  young  heir's  secret 
marriage  with  my  sister  for  the  sake  of  securing  a  luxurious 
home  for  myself.  No,  Mr.  Brudenell,  Nora  is  beautiful,  and 
it  is  not  unnatural  that  she  should  have  made  a  high  match; 
and  the  world  will  soon  forgive  her  for  it  and  forget  her  humble 
origin.  But  I  am  a  plain,  rude,  hard-working  woman;  am 
engaged  to  a  man  as  poor,  as  rugged,  and  toil-worn  as  myself. 
We  would  be  strangely  out  of  place  in  your  mansion,  subjected 
to  the  comments  of  your  friends.  We  will  never  intrude  there. 
I  shall  remain  here  at  my  weaving  until  the  time  comes,  if  it 


50  ishmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

ever  should  come,  when  Reuben  and  myself  may  marry,  and 
then,  if  possible,  we  will  go  to  the  West,  to  better  ourselves  in 
a  better  country." 

"  Well,  Hannah,  well,  if  such  be  your  final  determination, 
you  will  allow  me  at  least  to  do  something  towards  expediting 
your  marriage.  I  can  advance  such  a  sum  to  Reuben  Gray 
as  will  enable  him  to  many,  and  take  you  and  all  his  own  broth- 
ers and  sisters  to  the  rich  lands  of  the  West,  where,  instead  of 
being  encumbrances,  they  will  be  great  helps  to  him ;  for  there 
is  to  be  found  much  work  for  every  pair  of  hands,  young  or 
old,  male  or  female,"  said  the  young  man,  not  displeased,  per- 
haps, to  provide  for  his  wife's  poor  relations  at  a  distance  from, 
■which  they  would  not  be  likely  ever  to  enter  his  sphere. 

Hannah  reflected  for  a  moment  and  then  said: 

"  I  thank  you  very  much  for  that  offer,  Mr.  Brudenell.  It 
was  the  wisest  and  kindest,  both  for  yourself  and  us,  that  you 
could  have  made.  And  I  think  that  if  we  could  see  our  way 
through  repaying  the  advance,  we  would  gratefully  accept  it." 

"  Never  trouble  yourself  about  the  repayment !  Talk  to  Gray, 
and  then,  when  my  mother  has  gone,  send  him  up  to  talk  to  me," 
said  Herman. 

To  all  this  ISTora  said  nothing.  She  sat  silently,  with  her  head 
resting  upon  her  hand,  and  a  heavy  weight  at  her  heart,  such 
as  she  always  felt  when  their  future  was  spoken  of.  To  her 
inner  vision  a  heavy  cloud  that  would  not  disperse  always  rested 
on  that  future. 

Thus  the  matter  rested  for  the  present. 

Herman  continued  his  daily  visits  to  the  sisters,  and  longed 
impatiently  for  the  time  when  he  should  feel  free  to  acknowledge 
his  beautiful  young  peasant-wife  and  place  her  at  the  head  of 
his  princely  establishment. 

These  daily  visits  of  the  young  heir  to  the  poor  sisters  at- 
tracted no  general  attention.  The  hut  on  the  hill  was  so  remote 
from  any  road  or  any  dwelling-house  that  few  persons  passed 
near  it,  and  fewer  still  entered  its  door. 

It  was  near  the  middle  of  December,  when  Mrs.  Brudenell 
was  busy  with  her  last  preparations  for  her  removal,  that  the 
first  rumor  of  Herman's  visits  to  the  hut  reached  her. 

She  was  in  the  housekeeper's  room,  superintending  in  person 
the  selection  of  certain  choice  pots  of  domestic  sweetmeats  from 
the  family  stores  to  be  taken  to  the  town-house,  when  Mrs. 
Spicer,  who  was  attending  her,  said: 


A    SECRET    REVEALED.  51 

*'If  you  please,  ma'am,  there's  Jem  Morris  been  waiting  in 
the  kitchen  all  the  morning  to  see  you." 

"  Ah!  What  does  he  want?  A  job,  I  suppose.  Well,  tell  him 
to  come  in  hero,"  said  the  lady  carelessly,  as  she  scrutinized  the 
label  upon  a  jar  of  red  currant  jelly. 

The  housekeeper  left  the  room  to  obey,  and  returned  ushering 
in  an  individual  who,  as  he  performs  an  important  part  in 
this  history,  deserves  some  special  notice. 

He  was  a  mulatto,  between  forty-five  and  fifty  years  of  age, 
of  medium  size,  and  regular  features,  with  a  quantity  of  woolly 
hair  and  beard  that  hung  down  upon  his  breast.  He  was 
neatly  dressed  in  the  gray  homespun  cloth  of  the  country,  and 
entered  with  a  smiling  countenance  and  respectful  manner. 
Upon  the  whole  he  was  rather  a  good-looking  and  pleasing 
darky.  He  was  a  character,  too,  in  his  way.  He  possessed  a  fair 
amount  of  intellect,  and  a  considerable  fund  of  general  infor- 
mation. He  had  contrived,  somehow  or  other,  to  read  and. 
write;  and  he  would  read  everything  he  could  lay  his  hands 
on,  from  the  Bible  to  the  almanac.  He  had  formed  his  own 
opinions  upon  most  of  the  subjects  that  interest  society,  and 
he  expressed  them  freely.  He  kept  himself  well  posted  up  in 
the  politics  of  the  day,  and  was  ready  to  discuss  them  with  any- 
one who  would  enter  into  the  debate. 

He  had  a  high  appreciation  of  himself,  and  also  a  deep 
veneration  for  his  superiors.  And  thus  it  happened  that, 
when  in  the  presence  of  his  betters,  he  maintained  a  certain 
sort  of  droll  dignity  in  himself  while  treating  them  with  the 
utmost  deference.  He  was  faithful  in  his  dealings  with  hia 
numerous  employers,  all  of  whom  he  looked  upon  as  so  many 
helpless  dependents  under  his  protection,  for  whose  well-being 
in  certain  respects  he  was  strictly  responsible.  So  much  for 
his  character.  In  circumstances  he  was  a  free  man,  living  with 
his  wife  and  children,  who  were  also  free,  in  a  small  house  on 
Mr.  Brudenell's  estate,  and  supporting  his  family  by  such  a 
very  great  variety  of  labor  as  had  earned  for  him  the  title 
of  "  Professor  of  Odd  Jobs."  It  was  young  Herman  Brudenell, 
when  a  boy,  who  gave  him  this  title,  which,  from  its  singular 
appropriateness,  stuck  to  him;  for  he  could,  as  he  expressed 
it  himself,  "  do  anything  as  any  other  man  could  do."  He  could 
shoe  a  horse,  doctor  a  cow,  mend  a  fence,  make  a  boot,  set  a  bone, 
fix  a  lock,  draw  a  tooth,  roof  a  cabin,  drive  a  carriage,  put  up  a 
chimney,  glaze  a  window,  lay  a  hearth,  play  a  fiddle,  or  preach 


52  ishmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

• 

a  sermon.  He  could  do  all  these  things,  and  many  others  besides 
too  numerous  to  mention,  and  he  did  do  them  for  the  population 
of  the  whole  neighborhood,  who,  having  no  regular  mechanics, 
gave  this  "Jack  of  all  Trades"  a  plenty  of  work.  This  uni- 
versal usefulness  won  for  him,  as  I  said,  the  title  of  "  Professor 
of  Odd  Jobs."  This  was  soon  abbreviated  to  the  simple  "  Pro- 
fessor," which  had  a  singular  significance  also  when  applied 
to  one  who,  in  addition  to  all  his  other  excellencies,  believed 
Limself  to  be  pretty  well  posted  up  in  law,  physic,  and  theology, 
upon  either  of  which  he  would  stop  in  his  work  to  hold  forth, 
to  anyone  who  would  listen. 

Finally,  there  was  another  little  peculiarity  about  the  manner 
of  the  professor.  In  his  excessive  agreeability  he  would  always 
preface  his  answer  to  any  observation  whatever  with  some 
sort  of  assent,  such  as  "yes,  sir,"  or  "yes,  madam,"  right  or 
■wrong. 

This  morning  the  professor  entered  the  presence  of  Mrs, 
Brudenell,  hat  in  hand,  smiling  and  respectful. 

"  Well,  Morris,  who  has  brought  you  here  this  morning  ?  "^ 
inquired  the  lady. 

"  Yes,  madam.  I  been  thinkin'  about  you,  and  should  a-been 
here  'fore  this  to  see  after  your  affairs,  on'y  I  had  to  go  over 
to  Colonel  Mervin's  to  give  one  of  his  horses  a  draught,  and  then 
to  stop  at  the  colored  people's  meetin'  house  to  lead  the  exer- 
cises, and  afterwards  to  call  at  the  Miss  Worthses  to  mend 
Miss  Hannah's  loom  and  put  a  few  new  spokes  in  Miss  Nora's. 
-wheel.  And  so  many  people's  been  after  me  to  do  jobs  that  I'm 
fairly  torn  to  pieces  among  um.  And  it's  '  Professor '  here, 
and  *  Professor '  there,  and  *  Professor '  everywhere,  till  I  think 
my  senses  will  leave  me,  ma'am." 

"  Then,  if  you  are  so  busy  why  do  you  come  here,  Morris  ?  '^ 
said  Mrs.  Brudenell,  who  was  far  too  dignified  to  give  him  his 
title. 

"  Yes,  madam.  Why,  you  see,  ma'am,  I  came,  as  in  duty 
"bound,  to  look  after  your  affairs  and  see  as  they  were  all  right, 
Tvhich  they  are  not,  ma'am.  There's  the  rain  pipes  along  the 
roof  of  the  house  leaking  so  the  cistern  never  gets  full  of  water, 
and  I  must  come  and  solder  them  right  away,  and  the  light- 
ning rods  wants  fastenin'  more  securely,  and " 

"Well,  but  see  Grainger,  my  overseer,  about  these  things;; 
do  not  trouble  me  with   them." 

"Yes,  madam.     I  think  overseers  ought  to  be  called  over- 


A   SECRET    REVEALED.  53 

lookers,  because  they  oversee  so  little  and  overlook  so  muck. 
"Now,  there's  the  hinges  nearly  rusted  off  the  big  bam  door, 
and  I  dessay  he  never  saw  it." 

"  Well,  Morris,  call  his  attention  to  that  also ;  do  whatever 
you  find  necessary  to  be  done,  and  call  upon  Grainger  to  settle 
■with  you." 

"  Yes,  madam.  It  wasn't  on'y  the  rain  pipes  and  hinges  as 
•wanted  attention  that  brought  me  here,  however,  ma'am." 

"  What  was  it,  then  ?  Be  quick,  if  you  please.  I  am  very 
much  occupied  this  morning." 

"  Yes,  madam.  It  was  something  I  heard  and  felt  it  my 
duty  to  tell  you ;  because,  you  see,  ma'am,  I  think  it  is  the  duty 
of  every  honest " 

"  Come,  come,  Morris,  I  have  no  time  to  listen  to  an  oration 
from  you  now.  In  two  words,  what  had  you  to  tell  me  ?  "  inter- 
rupted the  lady  impatiently, 

"  Yes,  madam.    It  were  about  young  Mr.  Herman,  ma'am." 

"  Mr.  Brudenell,  if  you  please,  Morris.  My  son  is  the  head 
of  his  family." 

"  Certainly,  madam.     Mr.  Brudenell." 

"  Well,  what  about  Mr.  Brudenell?  " 

"  Yes,  madam.  You  know  he  was  away  from  home  every  day 
last  spring  and  summer." 

"  I  remember ;  he  went  to  fish ;  he  is  very  fond  of  fishing." 

"  Certainly,  madam;  but  he  was  out  every  day  this  autumn." 

"  I  am  aware  of  that ;  he  was  shooting ;  he  is  an  enthusiastic 
sportsman." 

"  To  be  sure,  madam,  so  he  is ;  but  he  is  gone  every  day  this 
■winter." 

"  Of  course ;  hunting ;  there  is  no  better  huntsman  in  the 
country  than  Mr.  Brudenell." 

"  That  is  very  true,  madam ;  do  you  know  what  sort  of  game 
he  is  a-huntin'  of  ? "  inquired  the  professor  meaningly,  but 
most  deferentially. 

"  Foxes,  I  presume,"  said  the  lady,  with  a  look  of  inquiry. 

"  Yes,  madam,  sure  enough ;  I  suppose  they  is  foxes,  though 
in  female  form,"  said  the  professor  dryly,  but  still  respectfully. 

"Whatever  do  you  mean,  Morris?"  demanded  the  lady 
sternly. 

"  Well,  madam,  if  it  was  not  from  a  sense  of  duty,  I  would 
not  dare  to  speak  to  you  on  this  subject;  for  I  think  when  a 
man  presumes  to  meddle  with  things  above  his  speer,  he '* 


54  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

"  I  remarked  to  you  before,  Morris,  that  I  had  no  time  to 
listen  to  your  moral  disquisitions.  Tell  me  at  once,  then,  what 
you  meant  to  insinuate  by  that  strange  speech,"  intei*rupted 
the  lady. 

"  Yes,  madam,  certainly.  When  you  said  Mr.  Brudenell  was 
a  hunting  of  foxes,  I  saw  at  once  the  correctness  of  your  sus- 
picions, madam;  for  they  is  foxes." 

"  Vfho  are  foxes  ?  " 

"Why,  the  Miss  Worthses,  madam." 

"  The  Miss  Worths !  the  weavers !  why,  what  on  earth  have 
they  to  do  with  v/hat  we  have  been  speaking  of  ? " 

"  Yes,  madam ;  the  Miss  Worthses  is  the  foxes  that  Mr. 
Brudenell  is  a-huntin'  of." 

"The  Miss  Worths?  My  son  hunting  the  Miss  Worths! 
What  do  you  mean,  sir  ?  Take  care  what  you  say  of  Mr.  Brude- 
nell, Morris." 

"  Yes,  madam,  certainly ;  I  won't  speak  another  word  on  the 
subject;  and  I  beg  your  pardon  for  having  mentioned  it  at 
all;  which  I  did  from  a  sense  of  duty  to  your  family,  madam, 
thinking  you  ought  to  know  it;  but  I  am  very  sorry  I  made 
such  a  mistake,  and  again  I  beg  your  pardon,  madam,  and  I 
humbly  take  my  leave."  And  with  a  low  bow  the  professor 
turned  to  depart. 

"  Stop,  fool !  "  said  Mrs.  Brudenell.  And  the  "  fool "  stopped 
and  turned,  hat  in  hand,  waiting  further  orders. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  Mr.  Brudenell  goes  after  those 
girls  ? "  asked  the  lady,  raising  her  voice  ominously. 

"  Yes,  madam ;  leastways,  after  Miss  Nora.  You  see,  madam, 
young  gentlemen  will  be  young  gentlemen,  for  all  their  mas 
can  say  or  do;  and  when  the  blood  is  warm  and  the  spirits  is 
high,  and  the  wine  is  in  and  the  wit  is  out " 

"  No  preaching,  I  say !  Pray,  are  you  a  clergyman  or  a  bar- 
rister? Tell  me  at  once  what  reason  you  have  for  saying  that 
my  son  goes  to  Worths'  cottage  ? " 

"Yes,  madam;  I  has  seen  him  often  and  often  along  of  Miss 
Nora  a-walking  in  the  valley  forest,  when  I  have  been  there 
myself  looking  for  herbs  and  roots  to  make  up  my  vegetable 
medicines  with.  And  I  have  seen  him  go  home  with  her.  And 
at  last  I  said,  '  It  is  my  bounden  duty  to  go  and  tell  the 
madam.' " 

"  You  are  very  sure  of  what  you  say  ?  " 

"  Yes,  madam,  suxe  as  I  am  of  my  life  and  my  death." 


MOTHER-    Al^D    DAUGnTER-IN-LAW.  55 

"  This  is  very  annoying !  very !  I  had  supposed  Mr.  Bx*ude- 
nell  to  have  had  better  principles.  Of  course,  when  a  young 
gentleman  of  his  x>osition  goes  to  see  a  girl  of  hers,  it  can  be 
but  with  one  object.  I  had  thought  Herman  had  better  morals, 
and  Hannah  at  least  more  sense!  This  is  veiy  annoying! 
very ! "  said  the  lady  to  herself,  as  her  brows  contracted  with 
anger.    After  a  few  moments  spent  in  silent  thought,  she  said: 

"  It  is  the  girl  Nora,  you  say,  he  is  with  so  much  ? " 

*'  Yes,  madam." 

"  Then  go  to  the  hut  this  very  evening  and  tell  that  girl  she 
must  come  up  here  to-morrow  morning  to  see  me.  I  thank  you 
for  your  zeal  in  my  service,  Morris,  and  will  find  a  way  to  re- 
ward you.    And  now  you  may  do  my  errand." 

"  Certainly,  madam !  My  duty  to  you,  madam,"  said  the 
professor,  with  a  low  bow,  as  he  left  the  room  arud  hurried  away 
to  deliver  his  message  to  Nora  Worth. 

"  This  is  very  unpleasant,"  said  the  lady.  "  But  since  Han- 
nah has  no  more  prudence  than  to  let  a  young  gentleman  visit 
her  sister,  I  must  talk  to  the  poor,  ignorant  child  myself,  and 
warn  her  that  she  risks  her  good  name,  as  well  as  her  peace  of 
mind." 

CHAPTER  VIL 

MOTHER-  AND  DAUGHTER-IN-LAW. 

Yotir  pardon,  noble  lady! 
My  friends  were  poor  but  honest — so  is  my  love; 
Be  not  offended,  for  it  hurts  him  not 
That  he  is  loved  of  me.     My  dearest  madam, 
Let  not  your  hate  encounter  with  my  love 
For  loving  where  you  do. 

— Shakspere. 

The  poor  sisters  had  just  finished  their  afternoon  meal, 
cleaned  their  room,  and  settled  themselves  to  their  evening's 
work.  Nora  was  spinning  gayly,  Hannah  weaving  diligently 
— the  whir  of  Nora's  wheel  keeping  time  to  the  clatter  of  Han- 
nah's loom,  when  the  latch  was  lifted  and  Herman  Brudenell, 
bringing  a  brace  of  hares  in  his  hand,  entered  the  hut. 

"  There,  Hannah,  those  are  prime!  I  just  dropped  in  to  leave 
them,  and  to  say  that  it  is  certain  my  mother  leaves  for  Wash- 
ington on  Saturday.  On  Sunday  morning  I  shall  bring  my 
wife  home;  and  you,  too,  Hannah;  for  if  you  will  not  consent 


56  ISHMAEL ;   OE,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

to  live  with,  us,  you  must  still  stop  with,  us  until  you  and  Gray 
are  married  and  ready  to  go  to  the  West,"  he  said,  throwing  the 
game  upon  the  table,  and  shaking  hands  with  the  sisters.  His 
face  was  glowing  from  exercise,  and  his  eyes  sparkling  with 
joy. 

"  Sit  down,  Mr.  Brudenell,"  said  Hannah   hospitably. 

The  young  man  hesitated,  and  a  look  of  droll  perplexity 
passed  over  his  face  as  he  said: 

"Now  don't  tempt  me,  Hannah,  my  dear;  don't  ask  me  to 
stop  this  evening ;  and  don't  even  let  me  do  so  if  I  wish  to.  You 
see  I  promised  my  mother  to  be  home  in  time  to  meet  some 
friends  at  dinner,  and  I  axa  late  now !  Good-by,  sister ;  good-by, 
sweet  wife!  Sunday  morning,  Mrs.  Herman  Brudenell,  you 
will  take  the  head  of  your  own  table  at  Brudenell  Hall !  " 

And  giving  Hannah  a  cordial  shake  of  the  hand,  and  Nora  a 
warm  kiss,  he  hurried  from  the  hut. 

When  he  had  closed  the  door  behind  him,  the  sisters  looked  at 
each  other. 

"  Think  of  it,  Hannah !  This  is  Thiirsday,  and  he  says  that 
he  will  take  us  home  on  Sunday — in  three  days !  Hannah,  do 
you  know  I  never  before  believed  that  this  would  be !  I  always 
thought  that  to  be  acknowledged  as  the  wife  of  Herman  Brude- 
nell— placed  at  the  head  of  his  establishment,  settled  in  that 
magnificent  house,  with  superb  furniture  and  splendid  dresses, 
and  costly  jewels,  and  carriages,  and  horses,  and  servants  to 
attend  me,  and  to  be  called  Mrs.  Brudenell  of  Brudenell  Hall, 
and  visited  by  the  old  country  families — ^was  a  great  deal  too 
much  happiness,  and  prosperity,  and  glory  for  poor  me !  " 

"  Do  you  believe  it  now  ?  "  inquired  Hannah    thoughtfully. 

"Why,  yes!  now  that  it  draws  so  near.  There  is  not  much 
that  can  happen  between  this  and  Sunday  to  prevent  it.  I 
said  it  was  only  three  days — but  in  fact  it  is  only  two,  for  this 
is  Thursday  evening,  and  he  will  take  us  home  on  Sunday 
morning;  so  you  see  there  is  only  two  whole  days — Friday  and 
Saturday — between  this  and  that !  " 

"  And  how  do  you  feel  about  this  great  change  of  fortune  ? 
Are  you  still  frightened,  though  no  longer  unbelieving  ? " 

"  No,  indeed !  "  replied  Nora,  glancing  up  at  the  little  look- 
ing-glass that  hung  immediately  opposite  to  her  wheel;  "if  I 
have  pleased  Herman,  who  is  so  fastidious,  it  is  not  likely  that 
I  should  disgust  others.  And  mind  this,  too :  I  pleased  Herman 
in  my  homespun  gown,  and  when  I  meet  his  friends  at  Brude- 


MOTHER-    AND    DAUGIITER-IN-LAW.  57 

nell  Hall,  I  shall  have  all  the  advantages  of  splendid  dress. 
No,  Hannah,  I  am  no  longer  incredulous  or  frightened.  And 
if  ever,  when  sitting  at  the  head  of  his  table  when  there  is  a 
dinner  party,  my  heart  should  begin  to  fail  me,  I  will  say  to  my- 
self :  *  I  pleased  Herman — the  noblest  of  you  all,'  and  then  I 
know  my  courage  will  return.  But,  Hannah,  won't  people  be 
astonished  when  they  find  out  that  I,  poor  Nora  Worth,  am 
really  and  truly  Mrs.  Herman  Brudenell !  What  will  they  say  ? 
What  will  old  Mrs,  Jones  say?  And  oh!  what  will  the  Miss 
Mervins  say?  I  should  like  to  see  their  faces  when  they  hear 
it !  for  you  know  it  is  reported  that  Colonel  Mervin  is  to  marry 
Miss  B:-udenell,  and  that  the  two  Miss  Mervins  are  secretly 
pulling  caps  who  shall  take  Herman !  Poor  young  ladies !  won't 
they  be  dumfounded  when  they  find  out  that  poor  Nora 
Worth  has  had  him  all  this  time !  I  wonder  how  long  it  will 
take  them  to  get  over  the  mortification,  and  also  whether  they 
will  call  to  see  me.    Do  you  think  they  will,  Hannah  ?  " 

"I  do  not  know,  my  dear.  The  Mervins  hold  their  heads 
very  high,"  replied  the  sober  elder  sister. 

*'  Do  they !  Well,  I  fancy  they  have  not  much  right  to  hold 
their  heads  much  higher  than  the  Brudenells  of  Brudenell 
Hall  hold  theirs.  Hannah,  do  you  happen  to  know  who  our  first 
ancestor  was  ? " 

"  Adam,  my  dear,  I  believe.'' 

"Nonsense,  Hannah;  I  do  not  mean  the  first  father  of  all 
mankind — I  mean  the  head  of  our  house." 

"  Our  house  ?  Indeed,  my  dear,  I  don't  even  know  who  our 
grandfather  was." 

"Fudge,  Hannah,  I  am  not  talking  of  the  Worths,  who  of 
course  have  no  history.  I  am  talking  of  our  family — the 
Brudenells !  " 

"Oh!"  said  Hannah    dryly. 

"  And  now  do  you  know  who  our  first  ancestor  was  ? " 

"Yes;  some  Norman  filibuster  who  came  over  to  England 
with  William  the  Conqueror,  I  suppose.  I  believe  from  all 
that  I  have  heard,  that  to  have  been  the  origin  of  most  of  the 
noble  English  families  and  old  Maryland  ones." 

"  No,  you  don't,  neither.  Herman  says  our  family  i«r>  inuch, 
older  than  the  Conquest.  They  were  a  noble  race  of  S'-iXon 
chiefs  that  held  large  sway  in  England  from  the  time  of  the 
first  invasion  of  the  Saxons  to  that  of  the  Norman  Conquest; 
at  which  peiiod  a  certain  Wolfbold  waged  such  successful  war 


58  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IX   THE   DEPTHS. 

against  the  invader  and  held  out  so  long  and  fought  so  furiously 
as  to  have  received  the  surname  of  '  Bred-in-hell ! ' " 

"  Humph !  do  you  call  that  an  honor,  or  him  a  respectable 
ancestor  ? " 

"  Yes,  indeed !  because  it  was  for  no  vice  or  crime  that  they 
give  him  that  surname,  but  because  it  was  said  no  man  born  of 
woman  could  have  exhibited  such  frantic  courage  or  performed 
such  prodigies  of  valor  as  he  did.  Well,  anyway,  that  was  the 
origin  of  our  family  name.  From  Bred-in-hell  it  became  Bredi- 
nell,  then  Bredenell,  and  finally,  as  it  still  sounded  rough  for 
the  name  of  a  respectable  family,  they  have  in  these  latter 
generations  softened  it  down  into  Brudenell.  So  you  see!  I 
should  like  to  detect  the  Mervins  looking  down  upon  us ! " 
concluded  Nora,  with  a  pretty  assumption  of  dignity. 

"  But,  my  dear,  you  are  not  a  Brudenell." 

"  I  don't  care !  My  husband  is,  and  Herman  says  a  wife  takes 
rank  from  her  husband !  As  Nora  Worth,  or  as  Mrs.  Herman 
Brudenell,  of  course  I  am  the  very  same  person;  but  then, 
ignorant  as  I  may  be,  I  know  enough  of  the  world  to  feel 
sure  that  those  who  despised  Nora  Worth  will  not  dare  to  slight 
Mrs.  Herman  Brudenell !  " 

"Take  care!  Take  care,  Nora,  dear!  'Pride  goeth  before 
a  fall,  and  a  haughty  temper  before  destruction ! ' "  said  Han- 
nah, in  solemn  warning. 

"  Well,  I  will  not  be  proud  if  I  can  help  it ;  yet — how  hard 
to  help  it !  But  I  will  not  let  it  grow  on  me.  I  will  remember 
my  humble  origin  and  that  I  am  undeserving  of  anything 
better." 

At  this  moment  the  latch  of  the  door  was  raised  and  Jem 
Morris  presented  himself,  taking  off  hia  hat  and  bowing  low, 
as  he  said: 

"  Evening,  Miss  Hannah ;  evening,  Miss  Nora.  Hopes  you 
finds  yourselves  well  ?  " 

"Why,  law,  professor,  is  that  you?  You  have  just  come  in 
time.  Hannah  wants  you  to  put  a  new  bottom  in  her  tin  sauce- 
pan and  a  new  cover  on  her  umbrella,  and  to  mend  her  coffee- 
mill  ;  it  won't  grind  at  all !  "  said  Nora. 

"  Yes,  miss ;  soon's  ever  I  gets  the  time.  See,  I've  got  a  well 
to  dig  at  Colonel  Mervin's,  and  a  chimney  to  build  at  Major 
Blackistone's,  and  a  hearth  to  lay  at  Commodore  Burgh's,  and 
a  roof  to  put  «vecp  old  Mrs.  Jones';  and  see,  that  will  take  me 
all  the  rest  of  the  week,"  objected  Jem, 


MOTHEE-   AND   DAUGHTER-m-LA"W.  59 

"  But  can't  you  take  the  things  home  with  you  and  do  them 
at  night  ?  "  inquired  Hannah. 

"  Yes,  miss ;  but  you  see  there's  only  three  nights  more  this 
:week,  and  I  am  engaged  for  all!  To-night  I've  got  to  go  and 
.sit  up  long  of  old  Jem  Brown's  corpse,  and  to-morrow  night 
to  play  the  fiddle  at  Miss  Polly  Hodges'  wedding,  and  the  next 
night  I  promised  to  be  a  waiter  at  the  college  ball,  and  even 
Sunday  night  aint  free,  'cause  our  preacher  is  sick  and  I've 
heen  invited  to  take  his  place  and  read  a  sermon  and  lead  the 
prayer!  So  you  see  I  couldn't  possibly  mend  the  coffee-mill 
and  the  rest  till  some  time  next  week,  nohow ! " 

"  I  tell  you  what,  Morris,  you  have  the  monopoly  of  your 
line  of  business  in  this  neighborhood,  and  so  you  put  on  airs 
and  make  people  wait.  I  wish  to  goodness  we  could  induce 
some  other  professor  of  odd  jobs  to  come  and  settle  among  us," 
said  Nora    archly. 

"Yes,  miss;  I  wish  I  could,  foT  I  am  pretty  nearly  run 
offen  my  feet,"  Jem  agreed.  "  But  what  I  was  wishing  to  say 
to  you,  miss,"  he  added,  "was  that  the  madam  sent  me  here 
with  a  message  to  you." 

"  Who  sent  a  message,  Jem  ? " 

*^  The  madam  up  yonder,  miss." 

"  Oh !  you  mean  Mrs.  Brudenell !  It  was  to  Hannah,  I  sup- 
pose, in  relation  to  work,"  said  Nora. 

"Yes,  miss;  but  this  time  it  was  not  to  Miss  Hannah;  it 
■was  to  you.  Miss  Nora.  '  Go  up  to  the  hut  on  the  hill,  and 
request  Nora  Worth  to  come  up  to  see  me  this  evening.  I  wish 
to  have  a  talk  with  her  ? '  Such  were  the  madam's  words.  Miss 
Nora." 

"  Oh,  Hannah !  "  breathed  Nora,  in  terror. 

"  What  can  she  want  with  my  sister  ?  "  inquired  Hannah. 

"Well,  yes,  miss.  She  didn't  say  any  further.  And  now, 
ladies,  as  I  have  declared  my  message,  I  must  bid  you  good 
evening;  as  they  exi>ects  me  round  to  old  uncle  Jem  Brown's 
to  watch  to-night."  And  with  a  deep  bow  the  professor 
Tetired. 

"  Oh,  Hannah !  "  wailed  Nora,  hiding  her  head  in  her  sister's 
bosom. 

''Well,  my  dear,  what  is  the  matter?" 

**  I  am  so  frightened." 

"What  at?" 

"  The  thoughts  of  Mrs.  Brudenell! " 


60  ISHMAEL  ;    OB,  ITT   THE    DEPTHS. 

"  Then  don't  go.  You  are  no*  a  slave  to  be  at  that  lady's  beck 
and  call,  I  reckon !  " 

"  Yes,  but  I  am  Herman's  mf  e  and  her  daughter,  and  I 
will  not  slight  her  request !  I  will  go,  Hannah,  though  I  had 
rather  plunge  into  ice  water  this  freezing  weather  than  meet 
that  proud  lady !  "  said  Nora,  shivering. 

''  Child,  you  need  not  do  so  I  You  are  not  bound !  You  owe 
no  duty  to  Mrs.  Brudenell,  until  Mr.  Brudenell  has  acknowl- 
edged you  as  his  wife  and  Mts.  Brudenell  as  her  daughter." 

"Hannah,  it  may  be  so;  yet  she  is  my  mother-in-law,  being 
dear  Herman's  mother;  and  though  I  am  frightened  at  the 
thought  of  meeting  her,  still  I  love  her ;  I  do,  indeed,  Hannah ! 
and  my  heart  longs  for  her  love!  Therefore  I  must  not  begin 
by  disregarding  her  requests.  I  will  go!  But  oh,  Hannah! 
what  can  she  want  with  me  ?  Do  you  think  it  possible  that  she 
has  heard  anything?  Oh,  suppose  she  were  to  say  anything 
to  me  about  Herman  ?  What  should  I  do !  "  cried  ISTora,  her 
teeth  fairly  chattering  with  nervousness. 

"  Don't  go,  I  say ;  you  are  cold  and  trembling  with  fear ;  it 
is  also  after  sunset,  too  late  for  you  to  go  out  alone." 

"  Yes ;  but,  Hannah,  I  must  go  !  I  am  not  afraid  of  the  night ! 
I  am  afraid  of  her!  But  if  you  do  not  think  it  well  for  me 
to  go  alone,  you  can  go  with  me,  you  know.  There  will  be  no 
liarm  in  that,  I  suppose  ? " 

"  It  is  a  pity  Herman  had  not  stayed  a  little  longer,  we  might 
lave  asked  him;  I  do  not  think  he  would  have  been  in  favor 
of  your  going." 

"  I  do  not  know ;  but,  as  ther6  is  no  chance  of  consulting  him, 
I  must  do  what  I  think  right  in  the  case  and  obey  his  mother," 
said  Nora,  rising  from  her  position  in  Hannah's  lap  and  going 
to  make  some  change  in  her  simple  dress.  When  she  was  ready 
she  asked : 

"  Are  you  going  with  me,  Hannah  ? " 

"  Surely,  my  child,"  said  the  elder  sister,  reaching  her  bonnet 
and  shawl. 

The  weather  was  intensely  cold,  and  in  going  to  Brudenell 
the  sisters  had  to  face  a  fierce  northwest  wind.  In  walking 
through  the  valley  they  were  sheltered  by  the  wood;  but  in 
climbing  the  hill  upon  the  opposite  side  they  could  scarcely 
keep  their  feet  against  the  furious  blast. 

They  reached  the  house  at  last,  Hannah  remem.bered  to  go 
to  the  servants'  door. 


MOTHER-   AND    D AUG  IITER-IN-LAW.  61 

"Ah,  Hannah!  they  little  think  that  when  next  I  come  to 
Brudenell  it  will  be  in  my  own  carriage,  which  will  draw  np 
at  the  main  entrance,"  said  Nora,  with  exultant  pride,  as  she 
blew  her  cold  fingers  while  they  waited  to  be  admitted. 

The  door  was  opened  by  Jovial,  who  started  back  at  the  sight 
of  the  sisters  and  exclaimed : 

"Hi,  Miss  Hannah,  and  Miss  Nora,  you  here?  Loramity 
sake  come  in  and  lemme  shet  the  door.  Here,  go  to  de  fire, 
chillern!  ISTame  o'  de  law  what  fetch  you  out  dis  bitter  night? 
Wind  sharp  nuff  to  peel  de  skin  right  offen  your  faces ! " 

"  Your  mistress  sent  word  that  she  wished  to  see  JSTora  this 
evening,  Jovial.  Will  you  please  to  let  her  know  that  we  are 
here  ? "  asked  Hannah,  as  she  and  her  sister  seated  themselves 
beside  the  roaring  hickory  fire  in  the  ample  kitchen  fireplace. 

"  Sartain,  Miss  Hannah !  Anything  to  obligate  the  ladies," 
said  Jovial,  as  he  left  the  kitchen  to  do  his  errand. 

Before  the  sisters  had  time  to  thaw,  their  messenger  re- 
entered, saying: 

"Mistess  wull  'ceive  Miss  ISTora  into  de  drawing-room." 

nSTora  arose  in  trepidation  to  obey  the  summons. 

Jovial  led  her  along  a  spacious,  well-lighted  passage,  through 
an  open  door,  on  the  left  side  of  which  she  saw  the  dining- 
room  and  the  dinner-table,  at  which  Mr.  Brudenell  and  his 
gentlemen  guests  still  sat  lingering  over  their  wine.  His  back 
was  towards  the  door,  so  that  he  could  not  see  her,  or  know  who 
was  at  that  time  passing.  But  as  her  eyes  fell  upon  him,  a  glow 
of  love  and  pride  warmed  and  strengthened  her  heart,  and  she 
said: 

"  After  all,  he  is  my  husband  and  this  is  my  house !  Why 
should  I  be  afraid  to  meet  the  lady  mother  ? " 

And  with  a  firm,  elastic  step  Nora  entered  the  drawing-room. 
At  first  she  was  dazzled  and  bewildered  by  its  splendor  and 
luxury.  It  was  fitted  up  with  almost  Oriental  magnificence. 
Her  feet  seemed  to  sink  among  blooming  flowers  in  the  soft 
rich  texture  of  the  carpet.  Her  eyes  fell  upon  crimson  velvet 
curtains  that  swept  in  massive  folds  from  ceiling  to  floor;  upon 
rare  full-length  pictures  that  filled  up  the  recesses  between  the 
gorgeously  draped  windows;  broad  crystal  mirrors  above  the 
marble  mantel-shelves;  marble  statuettes  w^herever  there  was  a 
corner  to  hold  one;  soft  crimson  velvet  sofas,  chairs,  ottomans 
and  stools;  inlaid  tables;  papier-mache  stands;  and  all  the 
thousand  miscellaaeous  vanities  of  a  modem  drawing-room. 


62  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

"And  to  think  that  aU  this  is  mine!  and  how  little  she 
dreams  of  it ! "  said  Nora,  in  an  awe-struck  whisper  to  her  own 
heart,  as  she  gazed  around  upon  all  this  wealth  until  at  last 
her  eye  fell  upon  the  stately  form  of  the  lady  as  she  sat  alone 
upon  a  sofa  at  the  back  of  the  room. 

"  Come  here,  my  girl,  if  you  please,"  said  Mrs.  Brudenell. 

^STora  advanced  timidly  until  she  had  reached  to  within  a  yard 
of  the  lady,  when  she  stopped,  courtesied,  and  stood  with  folded 
hands  waiting,  pretty  much  as  a  child  would  stand  when  called 
up  before  its  betters  for  examination. 

*'  Your  name  is  Nora  Worth,  I  believe,"  said  the  lady. 

*'My  name  is  iN'ora,  madam,"  answered  the  girl. 

*'  You  are  Hannah  Worth's  younger  sister  ?  " 

**  Yes,  madam." 

"  Now,  then,  my  girl,  do  you  know  why  I  have  sent  for  you 
tere  to-night  ? " 

"No,  madam." 

"Are  you  quite  sure  that  your  conscience  does  not  warn 
you?" 

Nora  was  silent. 

"Ah,  I  have  my  answer! "  remarked  the  lady  in  a  low  voice; 
then  raising  her  tone  shQ  said : 

"  I  believe  that  my  son,  Mr,  Herman  Brudenell,  is  in  the  habit 
of  daily  visiting  your  house;  is  it  not  so? " 

Nora  looked  up  at  the  lady  for  an  instant  and  then  dropped 
her  eyes. 

"  Quite  sufficient !  Now,  my  girl,  as  by  your  silence  you  have 
admitted  all  my  suppositions,  I  must  speak  to  you  very  seri- 
ously. And  in  the  first  place  I  would  ask  you,  if  you  do  not 
know,  that  when  a  gentleman  of  Mr.  Brudenell's  high  position 
takes  notice  of  a  girl  of  your  low  rank,  he  does  so  with  but  one 
purpose  ?     Answer  me !  " 

"I  do  not  understand  you,  madam." 

"  Very  well,  then,  I  will  speak  more  plainly !  Are  you  not 
aware,  I  would  say,  that  when  Herman  Brudenell  visits  Nora 
Worth  daily  for  months  he  means  her  no  good  ? " 

Nora  paused  for  a  moment  to  turn  this  question  over  in  her 
mind  before  replying. 

"I  cannot  think,  madam,  that  Mr.  Herman  Brudenell  could 
mean  anything  but  good  to  any  creature,  however  humble,  whom 
he  deigned  to  notice !  " 

"You  are  a  natural  fool   or  a  very  artful  girl,  one  or  the 


MOTHER-    AXD    DAUGHTER-IX-LAW.  63 

other ! "  said  the  lady,  who  was  not  very  choice  in  her  language 
when  speaking  in  anger  to  her  inferiors. 

"  You  admit  by  your  silence  that  Mr.  Brudemell  has  been 
visiting  you  daily  for  months ;  and  yet  you  imply  that  in  doing 
so  he  means  you  no  harm!  I  should  think  he  meant  your 
utter  ruin ! " 

"  Mrs.  Brudenell !  "  exclaimed  Nora,  in  a  surprise  so  sorrow- 
ful and  indignant  that  it  made  her  forget  herself  and  her 
fears,  "  you  are  speaking  of  your  own  son,  your  only  son ;  you 
are  his  mother,  how  can  you  accuse  him  of  a  base  crime  ? " 
•  "  Recollect  yourself,  my  girl !  You  surely  forget  the  presence 
in  which  you  stand !  Baseness,  crime,  can  never  be  connected 
with  the  name  of  Brudenell.  But  young  gentlemen  will  be 
young  gentlemen,  and  amuse  themselves  with  just  such  credu- 
lous fools  as  you !  "  said  the  lady  haughtily. 

"  Although  their  amusement  ends  in  the  utter  ruin  of  its 
subject?    Do  you  not  call  that  a  crime? " 

"  Girl,  keep  your  place,  if  you  please !  Twice  you  have  ven- 
tured to  call  me  Mrs.  Brudenell.  To  you  I  am  madam.  Twice 
you  have  asked  me  questions.  You  are  here  to  answer,  not  to 
ask!" 

"Pardon  me,  madam,  if  I  have  offended  you  through  my 
ignorance  of  forms,"  said  Nora,  bowing  with  gentle  dignity; 
for  somehow  or  other  she  was  gaining  self-possession  every 
moment. 

"  Will  you  answer  my  questions  then ;  or  continue  to  evade 
them?" 

"  I  can  answer  you  so  far,  madam — Mr.  Brudenell  has  never 
attempted  to  amuse  himself  at  the  expense  of  Xora  Worth; 
nor  is  she  one  to  permit  herself  to  become  the  subject  of  any 
man's  amusement,  whether  he  be  gentle  or  simple ! " 

"  And  yet  he  visits  you  daily,  and  you  permit  his  visits !  And 
this  has  gone  on  for  months !  You  cannot  deny  it — you  do  not 
attempt  to  deny  it!"  She  paused,  as  if  waiting  some  reply; 
"but  Nora  kept  silence. 

"  And  yet  you  say  he  is  not  amusing  himself  at  your  ex- 
pense ! " 

"  He  is  not,  madam ;  nor  would  I  permit  anyone  to  do  so !  " 

"I  do  not  understand  this!  Girl!  answer  me!  What  are 
you  to  my  son  ?  " 

Nora  was  silent. 

"  Answer  me !  "  said  the  lady  severely. 


64  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  ITT   THE    DEPTHS. 

"I  cannot,  madam!  Oli,  forgive  me,  but  I  cannot  answei 
you! ''  said  Xora. 

The  lady  looked  fixedly  at  her  for  a  few  seconds;  something 
in  the  girl's  appearance  startled  her;  rising,  she  advanced 
and  pulled  the  heavy  shawl  from  Nora's  shouldei-s,  and  regarded 
her  with  an  expression  of  mingled  hauteur,  anger,  and  scorn. 

Xora  dropped  her  head  upon  her  breast  and  covered  her 
blushing  face  with  both  hands. 

"  I  am  answered ! "  said  the  lady,  throwing  her  shawl  upon 
the  floor  and  touching  the  bell  rope. 

Jovial  answered  the  summons. 

"  Put  this  vile  creature  out  of  the  house,  and  if  she  ever 
dares  to  show  her  face  upon  these  premises  again  send  for  a 
constable  and  have  her  taken  up,"  said  Mrs.  Brudenell  hoarsely 
and  white  with  suppressed  rage,  as  she  pointed  to  the  shrinking' 
girl  before  her. 

"  Come,  Miss  Nora,  honey,''  whispered  the  old  man  kindly, 
as  he  picked  up  the  shawl  and  put  it  over  her  shoulders  and 
took  her  hand  to  lead  her  from  the  room;  for,  ah!  old  Jovial 
as  well  as  his  fellow-servants  had  good  cause  to  know  and 
understand  the  "  white  heat "  of  their  mistress'  anger. 

As  with  downcast  eyes  and  shrinking  form  Nora  followed 
her  conductor  through  the  central  passage  and  past  the  dining- 
room  door,  she  once  more  saw  Herman  Brudenell  still  sitting 
with  his  friends  at  the  table. 

"  Ah,  if  he  did  but  know  what  I  have  had  to  bear  within  the 
last  few  minutes !  "  she  said  to  herself  as  she  hurried  by. 

When  she  re-entered  the  kitchen  she  drew  the  shawl  closer 
around  her  shivering  figure,  pulled  the  bonnet  farther  over  her 
blushing  face,  and  silently  took  the  arm  of  Hannah  to  return 
home. 

The  elder  sister  asked  no  question.  And  when  they  had  left 
the  house  their  walk  was  as  silent  as  their  departure  had  been. 
It  required  all  their  attention  to  hold  their  course  through  the 
darkness  of  the  night,  the  intensity  of  the  cold  and  the  fury  of 
the  wind.  It  was  not  until  they  had  reached  the  shelter  of  their 
poor  hut,  drawn  the  fire-brands  together  and  sat  doT\Ti  before 
the  cheerful  blaze,  that  Nora  threw  herself  sobbing  into  the 
arms  of  her  sister. 

Hannah  gathered  her  child  closer  to  her  heart  and  caressed 
her  in  silence  until  her  fit  of  sobbing  had  exhausted  itself 
and  then  she  inquired : 


MOTHER-    AND    DAUGIITER-D^-LAW.  65 

"  What  did  Mrs.  Brudenell  want  with  you,  dear  ? " 

"Oh,  Ilanuah,  she  had  heard  of  Herman's  visits  here!  She 
questioned  and  cross-questioned  me.  I  would  not  admit  any- 
thing, but  then  I  could  not  deny  anything  either.  I  could 
give  her  no  satisfaction,  becavise  you  know  my  tongue  was  tied 
by  my  promise.  Then  she  suspected  me  of  being  a  bad  girl. 
And  she  cross-questioned  me  more  severely  than  ever.  Still 
I  could  give  her  no  satisfaction.  And  her  suspicions  seemed 
to  be  confirmed.  And  she  looked  at  me — oh !  with  such  terrible 
eyes,  that  they  seemed  to  burn  me  up.  I  know,  not  only  my 
poor  face,  but  the  very  tips  of  my  ears  seemed  on  fire.  And 
suddenly  she  snatched  my  shawl  o3  me,  and  oh !  if  her  look  was 
terrible  before,  it  was  consuming  now !  Hannah,  I  seemed  to 
shrivel  all  up  in  the  glare  of  that  look,  like  some  poor  worm 
in  the  flame !  "  gasped  Nora,  with  a  spasmodic  catch  of  her 
breath,  as  she  once  more  clung  to  the  neck  of  her  sister. 

"  What  next  ?  "  curtly  inquired  Hannah. 

"  She  rang  the  bell  and  ordered  Jovial  to  '  put  this  vile  crea- 
ture (meaning  me)  out ' ;  and  if  ever  I  dared  to  show  my  face  on 
the  premises  again,  to  send  for  a  constable  to  take  me  up." 

"  The  insolent  woman !  "  exclaimed  the  elder  sister,  with  a 
burst  of  very  natural  indignation.  "  She  will  have  you  taken  up 
by  a  constable  if  ever  you  show  your  face  there  again,  will 
she?  We'll  see  that!  I  shall  tell  Herman  Brudenell  all  about 
it  to-morrow  as  soon  as  he  comes !  He  must  not  wait  until  his 
mother  goes  to  Washington !  He  must  acknowledge  you  as  his 
"wife  immediately.  To-morrow  morning  he  must  take  you  up 
and  introduce  j'ou  as  such  to  his  mother.  If  there  is  to  be  au 
explosion,  let  it  come!  The  lady  must  be  taught  to  know  who 
it  is  that  she  has  branded  with  ill  names,  driven  from  the  house 
and  threatened  with  a  constable!  She  must  learn  that  it  is 
an  honorable  wife  whom  she  has  called  a  vile  creature ;  the  mis- 
tress of  the  house  whom  she  turned  out  of  doors,  and  finally 
that  it  is  Mrs.  Herman  Brudenell  whom  she  has  threatened  with 
a  constable !  "  Hannah  had  spoken  with  such  vehemence  and 
rapidity  that  Nora  had  found  no  opportunity  to  stop  her.  She 
could  not,  to  use  a  common  phrase,  "  get  in  a  word  edgeways." 
It  was  only  now  when  Hannah  paused  for  breath  that  Nora  took 
up  the  discourse  with : 

"Hannah!  Hannah!  Hannah!  how  you  do  go  on!  Tell  Her- 
man Binidenell  about  his  own  mother's  treatment  of  me,  in- 
deed!   I  will  never  forgive  you  if  you  do,  Hannah!    Do  you 


66  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN    THE   DEPTHS. 

think  it  "will  be  such  a  pleasant  thing  for  him  to  hear?  Con- 
sider how  much  it  would  hurt  him,  and  perhaps  estrange  him 
from  his  mother  too !  And  what !  shall  I  do  anything,  or  con- 
sent to  anything,  to  set  my  husband  against  his  own  hiother? 
Never,  Hannah !  I  would  rather  remain  forever  in  my  present 
obscurity.  Besides,  consider,  she  was  not  so  much  to  blame  for 
her  treatment  of  me!  You  know  she  never  imagined  such  a 
thing  as  that  her  son  had  actually  married  me,  and " 

"  I  should  have  told  her !  "  interrupted  Hannah  vehemently. 
"  I  should  not  have  borne  her  evil  charges  for  one  moment  in 
silence !  I  should  have  soon  let  her  know  who  and  what  I  was ! 
I  should  have  take  possession  of  my  rightful  place  then  and 
there!  I  should  have  rung  a  bell  and  sent  for  Mr.  Herman. 
Brudenell  and  had  it  out  with  the  old  lady  once  for  all ! " 

"  Hannah,  I  could  not !  my  tongue  was  tied  by  my  promise, 
and  besides " 

"  It  was  not  tied ! "  again  dashed  in  the  elder  sister,  whose 
unusual  vehemence  of  mood  seemed  to  require  her  to  do  all 
the  talking  herself.  "  Herman  Brudenell — he  is  a  generous 
fellow  with  all  his  faults! — released  both  you  and  myself  from.  1 

our  promise,  and  told  us  at  any  time  when  we  should  feel  that 
the  marriage  ought  not  any  longer  to  be  kept  secret  it  might 
be  divulged.    You  should  have  told  her !  " 

"What!  and  raised  a  storm  there  between  mother  and  son? 
when  both  those  high  spirits  would  have  become  so  inflamed  that 
they  would  have  said  things  to  each  other  that  neither  could 
ever  forgive?  What!  cause  a  rupture  between  them  that  never 
could  be  closed?  'No,  indeed,  Hannah!  Burned  and  shriveled 
up  as  I  was  with  shame  in  the  glare  of  that  lady's  scornful  look, 
I  would  not  save  myself  at  such  a  cost  to  him  and — to  her.  For 
though  you  mayn't  believe  me,  Hannah,  I  love  that  lady!  I 
do  in  spite  of  her  scorn!  She  is  my  husband's  mother;  I  love 
her  as  I  should  have  loved  my  own.  And,  oh,  while  she  was 
scorching  me  up  with  her  scornfvd.  looks  and  words,  how  I 
did  long  to  show  her  that  I  was  not  the  unworthy  creature 
she  deemed  me,  but  a  poor,  honest,  loving  girl,  who  adored 
both  her  and  her  son,  and  who  would,  for  the  love  I  bore 
them " 

"  Die,  if  necessary,  I  suppose !  That  is  just  about  what 
foolish  lovers  promise  to  do  for  each  other,"  said  the  elder  sister, 
impatiently. 

"  Well,  I  would,  Hannah ;  though  that  is  not  what  I  meant 


MOTHER-    AND    DAUGHTER-IN-LAW.  67 

to  say ;  I  meant  that  for  the  love  I  bore  them  I  would  so  strive 
to  improve  in  eveiy  respect  that  I  should  at  last  lift  myself 
to  their  level  and  be  worthy  of  them ! " 

"  Humph !  and  you  can  rest  under  this  ban  of  reproach ! " 

"  No,  not  rest,  Hannah !  no  one  can  rest  in  fire !  and  reproach 
is  fire  to  me!  but  I  can  bear  it,  knowing  it  to  be  undeserved! 
For,  Hannah,  even  when  I  stood  shriveling  in  the  blaze  of  that 
lady's  presence,  the  feeling  of  innocence,  deep  in  my  heart, 
kept  me  from  death!  for  I  think,  Hannah,  if  I  had  deserved 
her  reproaches  I  should  have  dropped,  blackened,  at  her  feet! 
Dear  sister,  I  am  very  sorry  I  told  you  anything  about  it.  Only 
I  have  never  kept  anything  from  you,  and  so  the  force  of  habit 
and  my  own  swelling  heart  that  overflowed  with  trouble  made 
me  do  it.  Be  patient  now,  Hannah !  Say  nothing  to  my  dear 
husband  of  this.  In  two  days  the  lady  and  her  daughters  will 
be  in  Washington.  Herman  will  take  us  home,  acknowledge  me 
and  write  to  his  mother.  There  will  then  be  no  outbreak ;  both 
will  command  their  tempers  better  when  they  are  apart !  And 
there  will  be  nothing  said  or  done  that  need  make  an  irreparable 
breach  between  the  mother  and  son,  or  between  her  and  myself. 
Promise  me,  Hannah,  that  you  will  say  nothing  to  Herman 
about  it  to-morrow !  " 

"I  promise  you,  Nora;  but  only  because  the  time  draws  so 
very  near  when  you  will  be  acknowledged  without  any  inter- 
ference on  my  part." 

"And  now,  dear  sister,  about  you  and  Reuben.  Have  you 
told  him  of  Mr.  Brudenell's  offer  I " 

"  Yes,  dear." 

"  And  he  will  accept  it? " 

"Yes." 

"  And  when  shall  you  be  married  ? " 

"  The  very  day  that  you  shall  be  settled  In  your  new  home, 
dear.  We  both  thought  that  best,  I  do  not  wish  to  go  to  Brude- 
nell,  Nora.  Nothing  can  ever  polish  me  into  a  fine  lady;  so  I 
should  be  out  of  place  there  even  for  a  day.  Besides  it  would 
be  awkward  on  account  of  the  house-servants,  who  have  always 
looked  upon  me  as  a  sort  of  companion,  because  I  have  been 
their  fellow-laborer  in  busy  times.  And  they  would  not  know 
how  to  treat  me  if  they  found  me  in  the  drawing-room  or  at  the 
dinner-table!  With  you  it  is  different;  you  are  naturally  re- 
fined! You  have  never  worked  out  of  our  own  house;  you  are 
their  master's  wife,  and  they  will  respect  you  as  such.    But  as 


68  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IK    THE   DEPTHS. 

for  me,  I  am  sure  I  should  embarrass  everj-body  if  I  should 
go  to  Brudenell.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  I  cannot  remain  here 
by  myself.  So  I  have  taken  Reuben's  advice  and  agreed  to 
walk  with  him  to  the  church  the  same  hour  that  Mr.  Brudenell 
takes  you  home." 

"  That  will  be  early  Sunday  morning." 

"Yes,  dear!" 

"  Well,  God  bless  you,  best  of  mother-sisters !  May  you  have 
much  happiness,"  said  Nora,  as  she  raised  herself  from  Han- 
nah's knees  to  prepare  for  rest. 


CHAPTER  vrn. 

END  OF  THE  SECRET  MARRIAGE. 

Upon  her  stubborn  brow  alone 
Nor  ruth  nor  mercy's  trace  is  shown, 
Her  look  is  hard  and  stern. 

—Scott. 

After  the  departure  of  !N"ora  Worth  Mrs.  Brudenell  seated 
herself  upon  the  sofa,  leaned  her  elbow  upon  the  little  stand 
at  her  side,  bowed  her  head  upon  her  hand  and  fell  into  deep 
thought.  Should  she  speak  to  Herman  Brudenell  of  this 
matter?  No!  it  was  too  late;  affairs  had  gone  too  far;  they 
must  now  take  their  course;  the  foolish  girl's  fate  must  be  on 
her  own  head,  and  on  that  of  her  careless  elder  sister ;  they  would 
both  be  ruined,  that  was  certain;  no  respectable  family  would 
ever  employ  either  of  them  again;  they  would  starve.  Well,  so 
much  the  better ;  they  would  be  a  warning  to  other  girls  of  their 
class,  not  to  throw  out  their  nets  to  catch  gentlemen !  Herman 
had  been  foolish,  wicked  even,  but  then  young  men  will  be 
young  men;  and  then,  again,  of  course  it  was  that  artful  crea- 
ture's fault !  What  could  she,  his  mother,  do  in  the  premises  ? 
Not  speak  to  her  son  upon  the  subject,  certainly;  not  even  let 
him  know  that  she  was  cognizant  of  the  affair!  WTiat  then? 
She  was  going  away  with  her  daughters  in  a  day  or  two !  And 
good  gracious,  he  would  be  left  alone  in  the  house!  to  do  as  he 
pleased !  to  keep  bachelor's  hall !  to  bring  that  girl  there  as  his 
housekeeper,  perhaps,  and  so  desecrate  his  sacred,  patrimonial 
home !    No,  that  must  never  be !    She  must  invite  and  urge  her 


END    OF   THE    SECRET   MARRIAGE.  69 

son  to  accompany  herself  and  his  sisters  to  Washington.  But 
if  he  should  decline  the  invitation  and  persist  in  his  declination, 
what  then  ?  Why,  as  a  last  resort,  she  would  give  up  the  Wash- 
ington campaign  and  remain  at  home  to  guard  the  sanctity 
of  her  son's  house. 

Having  come  to  this  conclusion,  Mrs.  Brudenell  once  more 
touched  the  bell,  and  when  Jovial  made  his  appearance  she 
said : 

"  Let  the  young  ladies  know  that  I  am  alone,  and  they  may 
join  me  now." 

In  a  few  minutes  Miss  Brudenell  and  Miss  Eleanora  entered 
the  room,  followed  by  the  gentlemen,  who  had  just  left  the 
dinner-table. 

Coffee  was  immediately  served,  and  soon  after  the  guests 
took  leave. 

The  young  ladies  also  left  the  drawing-room,  and  retired  to 
their  chambers  to  superintend  the  careful  packing  of  some  fine 
lace  and  jewelry.  The  mother  and  son  remained  alone  together 
— Mrs.  Brudenell  seated  upon  her  favorite  back  sofa  and 
Herman  walking  slowly  and  thoughtfully  up  and  down  the 
whole  length  of  the  room. 

"  Herman,"  said  the  lady. 

"Well,  mother?" 

"  I  have  been  thinking  about  our  winter  in  Washington.  I 
have  been  reflecting  that  myself  and  your  sisters  will  have  no 
natural  protector  there." 

"  You  never  had  any  in  Paris  or  in  London,  mother,  and  yet 
you  got  on  very  vi^ell." 

"  That  was  a  matter  of  necessity,  then ;  you  were  a  youth 
at  college;  we  could  not  have  yovir  company;  but  now  you  are 
a  young  man,  and  your  place,  until  you  marry,  is  with  me  and 
my  daughters.  We  shall  need  your  escort,  dear  Herman,  and 
be  happier  for  your  company.  I  should  be  very  glad  if  I  could 
induce  to  accompany  us  to  the  city." 

"  And  I  should  be  very  glad  to  do  so,  dear  mother,  but  for 
the  engagements  that  bind  me  here." 

She  did  not  ask  the  very  natural  question  of  what  those 
engagements  might  be.  She  did  not  wish  to  let  him  see  that 
she  knew  or  suspected  his  attachment  to  Nora  Worth,  so  she 
answered : 

"  You  refer  to  the  improvements  and  additions  you  mean 
to  add  to  Brudenell  Hall.     Surely  these  repairs  had  better  be 


70  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

deferred  until  the  spring,  when  the  weather  will  be  more  favor- 
able for  such  work  ?  " 

"  My  dear  mother,  all  the  alterations  I  mean  to  have  made 
inside  the  house  can  very  well  be  done  this  winter.  By  the 
next  summer  I  hope  to  have  the  whole  place  in  complete  order 
for  you  and  my  sisters  to  return  and  spend  the  warm  weather 
with  me." 

The  lady  lifted  her  head.  She  had  never  known  her  son  to 
be  guilty  of  the  least  insincerity.  If  he  had  looked  forward  to 
the  coming  of  herself  and  her  daughters  to  Brudenell,  to  spend 
the  next  summer,  he  could  not,  of  course,  be  contemplating 
the  removal  of  Nora  Worth  to  the  house. 

"  Then  you  really  expect  us  to  make  this  our  home,  as  here- 
tofore, every  summer  ?  "  she  said. 

"  I  have  no  right  to  expect  such  a  favor,  my  dear  mother; 
but  I  sincerely  hope  for  it,"  said  the  son  courteously. 

"  But  it  is  not  every  young  bachelor  living  on  his  own  estate 
who  cares  to  be  restrained  by  the  presence  of  his  mother  and 
sisters ;  such  generally  desire  a  life  of  more  freedom  and  gayety 
than  would  be  proper  with  ladies  in  the  house,"  said  Mrs. 
Brudenell. 

"  But  I  am  not  one  of  those,  mother ;  you  know  that  my 
habits  are  very  domestic." 

"  Yes.  Well,  Herman,  it  may  just  as  well  be  understood  that 
myself  and  the  girls  will  return  here  to  spend  the  summer. 
But  now — the  previous  question!  Can  you  not  be  prevailed 
on  to  accompany  us  to  Washington  ? " 

"  My  dear  mother !  anything  on  earth  to  oblige  you  I  would 
'do,  if  possible!  But  see!  you  go  on  Saturday,  and  this  is 
Thursday  night.  There  is  but  one  intervening  day.  I  could  not 
make  the  necessary  arrangements.  I  have  much  business  to 
transact  with  my  overseer;  the  whole  year's  accounts  still  to 
examine,  and  other  duties  to  do  before  I  could  possibly  leave 
home.  But  I  tell  you  what  I  can  do;  I  can  hurry  up  these 
matters  and  join  you  in  Washington  at  the  end  of  the  week, 
in  full  time  to  escort  you  and  my  sisters  to  that  grand  national 
ball    of  which  I  hear  them  incessantly  talking." 

"  And  remain  with  us  for  the  winter  ?  " 

"  If  you  shall  continue  to  wish  it,  and  if  I  can  find  a  builder, 
iflecorator,  and  upholsterer  whom  I  can  send  down  to  Brudenell 
Hall,  to  make  the  improvements,  and  whom  I  can  trust  to  carr/ 
out  my  ideas." 


END    OF   THE    SECRET   MARRIAGE.  71 

The  lady's  heart  leaped  for  joy!  It  was  all  right  then!  he 
was  willing  to  leave  the  neighborhood!  he  had  no  particular 
attractions  here !  his  affections  were  not  involved !  his  acquaint- 
ance with  that  girl  had  been  only  a  piece  of  transient  folly, 
of  which  he  was  probably  sick  and  tired !  These  were  her 
thoughts  as  she  thanked  her  son  for  his  ready  acquiescence  in 
her  wishes. 

Meanwhile  what  were  his  purposes  ?  To  conciliate  his  mother 
by  every  concession  except  one!  To  let  her  depart  from  his 
house  with  the  best  feelings  towards  himself!  then  to  write  to 
her  and  announce  his  marriage;  plead  his  great  love  as  its 
excuse,  and  implore  her  forgiveness;  then  to  keep  his  word 
and  go  to  Washington,  taking  Nora  with  him,  and  remain  iu 
the  capital  for  the  winter  if  his  mother  should  still  desire  hira 
to  do  so. 

A  few  moments  longer  the  mother  and  son  remained  in  the 
drawing  room  before  separating  for  the  night — Mrs.  Brude- 
nell  seated  on  her  sofa  and  Herman  walking  slowly  up  and 
down  the  floor.  Then  the  lady  arose  to  retire,  and  Heiinan 
lighted  a  bedroom  candle  and  put  it  in  her  hand. 

When  she  had  bidden  him  good  night  and  left  the  room,  he 
resumed  his  slow  and  thoughtful  walk.  It  was  very  late,  and 
Jovial  opened  the  door  for  the  purpose  of  entering  and  putting 
out  the  lights ;  but  seeing  his  master  still  walking  up  and  down 
the  floor,  he  retired,  and  sat  yawoiing  while  he  waited  in  the 
hall  without. 

The  clock  upon  the  mantel-piece  struck  one,  and  Herman 
Brudenell  lighted  his  own  candle  to  retire,  when  his  steps  were 
arrested  by  a  sound — a  common  one  enough  at  other  hours 
and  places,  only  unprecedented  at  that  hour  and  in  that  place. 
It  was  the  roll  of  carriage  wheels  upon  the  drive  approaching 
the  house. 

Who  could  possibly  be  coming  to  this  remote  country  mansion, 
at  one  o'clock  at  night?  While  Herman  Brudenell  paused  in 
expectancy,  taper  in  hand,  Jovial  once  more  opened  the  door 
and  looked  in. 

"  Jovial,  is  that  the  sound  of  carriage  wheels,  or  do  I  only 
fancy  so  ?  "  asked  the  young  man. 

"  Carriage  wheels,  marser,  coming  right  to  de  house,  too !  '* 
answered  the  negro. 

"  Who  on  earth  can  be  coming  here  at  this  hour  of  the  night? 
We  have  not  an  acquaintance  intimate  enough  with  us  to  take 


72  iSHiiAEL ;  OE,  ijS"  the  depths. 

such  a  liberty.    And  it  cannot  be  a  belated  traveler,  for  we  are 
miles  from  any  public  road." 

"  Dat's  jes'  what  I  been  a-sayin'  to  myself,  sir.  But  we  shall 
find  out  now  directly." 

While  this  short  conversation  went  on,  the  carriage  drew 
nearer  and  nearer,  and  finally  rolled  up  to  the  door  and  stopped. 
Steps  were  rattled  down,  someone  alighted,  and  the  bell  was 
rung. 

Jovial  flew  to  open  the  door — curiosity  giving  wings  to  his 
feet. 

Mr.  Brudenell  remained  standing  m  the  middle  of  the  draw- 
ing-room, attentive  to  what  was  going  on  without.  He  heard 
Jovial  open  the  door;  then  a  woman's  voice  inquired: 

"Is  this  Brudenell  Hall?" 

"  In  course  it  is,  miss." 

"  And  are  the  family  at  home  ?  " 

"  Yes,  miss,  dey  most,  in  gen'al,  is  at  dis  hour  ob  de  night, 
dough  dey  don't  expect  wisiters." 

"  Are  all  the  family  here  ?  " 

"  Dey  is,  miss.'' 

"  All  right,  coachman,  you  can  take  off  the  luggage,"  said 
the  woman,  and  then  her  voice,  sounding  softer  and  farther 
off,  spoke  to  someone  still  within  the  carriage :  "  We  are  quite 
right,  my  lady,  this  is  Brudenell  Hall;  the  family  are  all  at 
home,  and  have  not  yet  retired.  Shall  I  assist  your  ladyship 
to  alight  ? " 

Then  a  soft,  low  voice  replied: 

"Yes,  thank  you,  Phoebe.  But  first  give  the  dressing-bag 
to  the  man  to  take  in,  and  you  carry  Fidelle." 

"  Bub — bub — bub — bub — but,"  staramered  the  appalled  Jovial, 
with  his  arms  full  of  lap-dogs  and  dressing-bags  that  the  woman 
had  forced  upon  him,  "  you  better  some  of  you  send  in  your 
names,  and  see  if  it  won't  be  ill-convenient  to  the  fam'ly,  afore 
you  'spects  me  to  denounce  a  whole  coach  full  of  travelers  to 
my  masser !     Who  is  you  all,  anyhow,  young  woman  ?  " 

"  My  lady  will  soon  let  you  know  who  she  is !  Be  careful  of  . 
that  dog !  you  are  squeezing  her !  and  here  take  this  shawl,  and 
this  bird-cage,  and  this  carpet-bag,  and  these  umbrellas,"  re- 
plied the  woman,  overvv'helming  him  with  luggage.  "  Here, 
coachman!  bring  that  large  trunk  into  the  hall!  And  come 
now,  my  lady;  tlae  Iviggage  is  all  right." 

As  for  Jovial,  he  di'opped  lap-dogs,  bird-cages,  carpet-bags. 


END    OF   THE    SECRET   MARRIAGE.  73 

and  umbrellas  plump  upon  the  hall  floor,  and  rushed  into  the 
drawing-room,  exclaiming : 

"  Masser,  it's  an  invasion  of  de  GofFs  and  Wandalls,  or  some 
other  sich  furriners!  And  I  think  the  milishy  ought  to  be 
called  out." 

"Don't  be  a  fool,  if  you  please.  These  are  travelers  who 
have  missed  their  way,  and  are  in  need  of  shelter  this  bitter 
night.  Go  at  once,  and  show  them  in  here,  and  then  wake 
up  the  housekeeper  to  prepare  refreshments,"  said  Mr.  Brude- 
nell. 

"It  is  not  my  wishes  to  act  foolish,  marser;  but  it's  enough 
to  constunnate  the  sensoriest  person  to  be  tumbled  in  upon  dis 
way  at  dis  hour  ob  de  night  by  a  whole  raft  of  strangers — men, 
and  women,  and  dogs,  and  cats,  and  birds  included !  "  mumbled 
Jovial,  as  he  went  to  do  his  errand. 

But  his  services  as  gentleman  usher  seemed  not  to  be  needed 
by  the  stranger,  for  as  he  left  the  drawing-room  a  lady  entered, 
followed  by  a  waiting  maid. 

The  lady  was  clothed  in  deep  mourning,  with  a  thick  crape 
veil  concealing  her  face. 

As  Herman  advanced  to  welcome  her  she  threw  aside  her 
veil,  revealing  a  pale,  sad,  young  face,  shaded  by  thick  curls  of 
glossy  black  hair. 

At  the  sight  of  that  face  the  young  man  started  back,  the 
pallor  of  death  overspreading  his  countenance  as  he  sunk  upon 
the  nearest  sofa,  breathing  in  a  dying  voice: 

"Berenice!  You  here!  Is  it  you?  Oh,  Heaven  have  pity 
on  us !  " 

"Pho?be,  go  and  find  out  the  housekeeper,  explain  who  I 
am,  and  have  my  luggage  taken  up  to  my  apartment.  Then 
order  tea  in  this  room,"  said  the  lady,  perhaps  with  the  sole 
view  of  getting  rid  of  her  attendant;  for  as  soon  as  the  latter 
had  withdrawn  she  threw  off  her  bonnet,  went  to  the  over- 
whelmed young  man,  sat  down  beside  him,  put  her  arms  around 
him,  and  drew  his  head  down  to  meet  her  own,  as  she  said, 
caressingly : 

"  You  did  not  expect  me,  love  ?  And  my  arrival  here  over- 
comes you." 

"I  thought  you  had  been  killed  in  that  railway  collision," 
came  in  hoarse  and  guttural  tones  from  a  throat  that  seemed 
suddenly  parched  to  ashes. 

"Poor  Herman!   and  you  had  rallied   from  that  shock  of 


74  ishmael;  oe,  in  the  depths. 

grief;  but  was  not  strong  enough  to  sustain  a  shock  of  joy! 
I  ought  not  to  have  given  you  this  surprise!  But  try  now 
to  compose  yourself,  and  give  me  welcome.  I  am  here;  alive, 
warm,  loving,  hungry  even!  a  woman,  and  no  specter  risen 
from  the  grave,  although  you  look  at  me  just  as  if  I  were  one! 
Dear  Herman,  kiss  me !  I  have  come  a  long  way  to  join  you !  " 
she  said,  in  a  voice  softer  than  the  softest  notes  of  the  cushat 
dove. 

"  How  was  it  that  you  were  not  killed  ?  "  demanded  the  young 
man,  with  the  manner  of  one  who  exacted  an  apology  for  a 
grievous  wrong. 

"  My  dearest  Herman,  I  came  very  near  being  crushed  to 
death;  all  that  were  in  the  same  carriage  with  me  perished. 
I  was  so  seriously  injured  that  I  was  reported  among  the  killed; 
but  the  report  was  contradicted  in  the  next  day's  paper." 

"  How  was  it  that  you  were  not  killed,  I  asked  you  ? " 

"  My  dearest  one,  I  suppose  it  was  the  will  of  Heaven  that 
I  should  not  be.    I  do  not  know  any  other  reason." 

"  Why  did  you  not  write  and  tell  me  you  had  escaped  ? " 

"  Dear  Herman,  how  hoarsely  you  speak !  And  how  ill  you 
look !  I  fear  you  have  a  very  bad  cold !  "  said  the  stranger 
tenderly. 

"  Why  did  you  not  write  and  tell  me  of  your  escape,  I  ask 
you?  Why  did  you  permit  me  to  believe  for  months  that  you 
were  no  longer  in  life  ? " 

"  Herman,  I  thought  surely  if  you  should  have  seen  the 
announcement  of  my  death  in  one  paper,  you  would  see  it  con- 
tradicted, as  it  was,  in  half  a  dozen  others.  And  as  for  writing, 
I  was  incapable  of  that  for  months !  Among  other  injuries, 
my  right  hand  was  crushed,  Herman.  And  that  it  has  been 
saved  at  all,  is  owing  to  a  miracle  of  medical  skill !  " 

"  Why  did  you  not  get  someone  else  to  write,  then  ? " 

"  Dear  Herman,  you  forget !  There  was  no  one  in  our  secret ! 
I  had  no  confidante  at  all!  Besides,  as  soon  as  I  could  be 
moved,  my  father  took  me  to  Paris,  to  place  me  under  the  care 
of  a  celebrated  surgeon  there.  Poor  father!  he  is  dead  now, 
Herman !  He  left  me  all  his  money.  I  am  one  among  the  rich- 
est heiresses  in  England.  But  it  is  all  yours  now,  dear  Her- 
man. When  I  closed  my  poor  father's  eyes  my  hand  was  still 
too  stiff  to  wield  a  pen !  And  still,  though  there  was  no  longer 
any  reason  for  mystery,  I  felt  that  I  would  rather  come  to  you 
at  once  than  eipploy  the  pen  of  another  to  write.    That  is  the 


THE    VICTIM.  75 

reason,  dear  Herman,  why  I  have  been  so  long  silent,  and  why 
at  last  I  arrive  so  unexpectedly.  I  hope  it  is  satisfactory.  But 
what  is  the  matter,  Herman  ?  You  do  not  seem  to  be  yourself ! 
You  have  not  welcomed  me!  you  have  not  kissed  me!  you  have 
not  even  called  me  by  my  naxne,  since  I  first  came  in!  Oh! 
can  it  be  possible  that  after  all  you  are  not  glad  to  see  me  ?"  she 
exclaimed,  rising  from  her  caressing  posture  and  standing  sor- 
rowfully before  him.  Her  face  that  had  looked  pale  and  sad 
from  the  first  was  now  convulsed  by  some  passing  anguish. 

He  looked  at  that  suffering  face,  then  covered  his  eyes  with 
his  hands  and  groaned. 

"What  is  this,  Herman?  Are  you  sorry  that  I  have  come? 
Do  you  no  longer  love  me  ?  What  is  the  matter  ?  Oh,  speak 
to  me!" 

"  The  matter  is — ruin !  I  am  a  felon,  my  lady !  And  it  were 
better  that  you  had  been  crushed  to  death  in  that  railway 
collision  than  lived  to  rejoin  me  here!  I  am  a  wretch,  too 
base  to  live !  And  I  wish  the  earth  would  open  beneath  our  feet 
and  swallow  us !  " 

The  lady  stepped  back,  appalled,  and  before  she  could  think 
of  a  reply,  the  door  opened  and  Mrs.  Brudenell,  who  had  been 
awakened  by  the  disturbance,  sailed  into  the  room. 

"  It  is  my  mother !  "  said  the  young  man,  struggling  for  com- 
posure. And  rising,  he  took  the  hand  of  the  stranger  and  led 
her  to  the  elder  lady,  saying : 

"  This  is  the  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux,  madam ;  I  com- 
mend her  to  your  care." 

And  having  done  this,  he  turned  and  abruptly  left  the  room 
and  the  house. 

CHAPTEE   IX. 

THE  VICTIM. 

Good  hath  been  born  of  Evil,  many  times, 
As  pearls  and  precious  ambergris  are  grown, 
Fruits  of  disease  in  pain  and  sickness  sown. 

So  think  not  to  unravel,  in  tliy  thought, 
This  mingled  tissue,  this  mysterious  plan, 

The  Alchemy  of  Good  through  Evil  wi-ought. 

— Tupper. 

"  But  one  more  day,  Hannah !  but  one  more  day ! "  gayly 
exclaimed  Nora  Worth,  as  she  busied  herself  in  setting  the 
room  in  order  on  Friday  morning. 


76  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

''•  Yes,  but  one  more  day  in  any  event!  For  even  if  tta 
weather  should  change  in  this  uncertain  season  of  the  year, 
and  a  heavy  fall  of  snow  should  stop  Mrs.  Brudenell's  journey, 
that  shall  not  prevent  Mr.  Brudenell  from  acknowledging  you 
as  his  wife  on  Sunday !  for  it  is  quite  time  this  were  done,  in 
order  to  save  your  good  name,  which  I  will  not  have  longer 
endangered !  "  said  the  elder  sister,  with  grim  determination. 

And  she  spoke  with  good  reason ;  it  was  time  the  secret  mar- 
riage was  made  pubKc,  for  the  young  wife  was  destined  soon  to 
become  a  mother. 

"  Now,  do  not  use  any  of  these  threats  to  Herman,  when  he 
comes  this  morning,  Hannah !  Leave  him  alone ;  it  will  all  ba 
right,"  said  Nora,  as  she  seated  herself  at  her  spinning- 
wheel. 

Hannah  was  already  seated  at  her  loom;  and  there  was  but 
little  more  conversation  between  the  sisters,  for  the  whir  of 
the  wheel  and  the  clatter  of  the  loom  would  have  drowned  their 
voices,  so  that  to  begin  talking,  they  must  have  stopped 
working. 

Nora's  caution  to  Hannah  was  needless;  for  the  hours  of 
the  forenoon  passed  away,  and  Herman  did  not  appear. 

"I  wonder  why  he  does  not  come?"  inquired  Nora,  strain- 
ing her  eyes  down  the  path  for  the  thousandth  time  that  day. 

"  Perhaps,  Nora,  the  eld  lady  has  been  blowing  him  up,  also," 
suggested  the  elder  sister. 

"  No,  no,  no: — that  is  not  it !  Because  if  she  said  a  word  to 
him  about  his  acquaintance  with  me,  and  particularly  if  she 
were  to  speak  to  him  of  me  as  she  spoke  to  me  of  myself,  he 
would  acknowledge  me  that  moment,  and  come  and  fetch  me 
home,  sooner  than  have  me  wrongly  accused  for  an  instant. 
No,  Hannah,  I  will  tell  you  what;  it  is :  it  is  his  mother's  last 
day  at  home,  and  he  is  assisting  her  with  her  last  preparations," 
said  Nora. 

"  It  may  be  so,"  replied  her  sister ;  and  once  more  whir  and 
clatter  put  a  stop  to  conversation. 

The  afternoon  drew  on. 

*'  It  is  strange  he  does  not  come !  "  sighed  Nora,  as  she  put 
aside  her  wheel,  and  weait  to  mend  the  fire  and  hang  on  the 
kettle  for  their  evening  meal. 

Hannah  made  no  comment,  but  worked  on ;  for  she  was  in  a 
hurry  to  finish  the  piece  of  clotli  then  in  the  loom ;  and  so  she 
diligently  drove  her  shuttle  until  Nora  had  baked  the  biscuits. 


THE    VICTIM.  77 

fried  the  fish,  made  the  tea,  set  the  table,  and  called  her  to 
supper. 

"  I  suppose  he  has  had  a  great  deal  to  do,  Hannah ;  but  per- 
haps he  may  get  over  here  later  in  the  evening,"  sighed  Nora, 
as  they  took  their  seats  at  the  table. 

"  I  don't  know,  dear ;  but  it  is  my  opinion  that  the  old  lady, 
even  if  she  is  too  artful  to  blow  him  up  about  you,  will  conti-ive 
to  keep  him  busy  as  long  as  possible  to  prevent  his  coming." 

"  Now,  Hannah,  I  wish  you  wouldn't  speak  so  disrespect- 
fully of  Herman's  mother.  If  she  tries  to  prevent  him  from 
coming  to  see  me,  it  is  because  she  thinks  it  her  duty  to  do 
so,  believing  of  me  as  badly  as  she  does." 

"  Yes !  I  do  not  know  how  you  can  breathe  under  such  a  sus- 
picion !     It  would  smother  me !  " 

"  I  can  bear  it  because  I  know  it  to  be  false,  Hannah ;  and 
soon  to  be  proved  so  !•  Only  one  day  more,  Hannah !  only  one 
day !  "  exclaimed  Nora,  gleefully  clapping  her  hands. 

They  finished  their  supper,  set  the  room  in  order,  lighted  the 
candle,  and  sat  down  to  the  knitting  that  was  their  usual  even- 
ing occupation. 

Their  needles  were  clicking  merrily,  when  suddenly,  in  the 
midst  of  their  work,  footsteps  were  heard  outside. 

''  There  he  is  now !  "  exclaimed  Nora  gayly,  starting  up  to 
open  the  door. 

But  she  was  mistaken;  there  he  was  not,  but  an  old  woman, 
covered  with  snow. 

"  Law,  Mrs.  Jones,  is  this  you  ? "  exclaimed  Nora,  in  a  tone 
of  disappointment  and  vexation. 

"  Yes,  child — don't  ye  see  it's  me  ?  Le'me  come  in  out'n 
the  snow,"  replied  the  dame,  shaking  herself  and  bustling  in. 

"  Why,  law,  Mrs.  Jones,  you  don't  mean  it's  snowing !  "  said 
Hannah,  mending  the  fire,  and  setting  a  chair  for  her  visitor. 

"  Why,  child,  can't  you  see  it's  a-snowing — fast  as  ever  it 
can?  been  snowing  ever  since  dark — soft  and  fine  and  thick 
too,  which  is  a  sure  sign  it  is  agoing  to  be  a  deep  fall;  I 
shouldn't  wonder  if  the  snow  was  three  or  four  feet  deep  to- 
morrow morning !  "  said  Mrs.  Jones,  as  she  seated  herself  in 
the  warmest  corner  of  the  chimney  and  drew  up  the  front  of 
her  skirt  to  toast  her  shins. 

"  Nora,  dear,  pour  out  a  glass  of  wine  for  Mrs.  Jones ;  it 
may  warm  her  up,  and  keep  her  from  taking  cold,"  said  Hannah 
hospitably. 


78  ISHMAEL ;   OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

Wine  glass  there  was  none  in  the  hut,  but  ISTora  generously 
poured  out  a  large  tea-cup  full  of  fine  old  port  that  had  been, 
given  her  by  Herman,  and  handed  it  to  the  visitor. 

Mrs.  Jones'  palate  was  accustomed  to  no  better  stimulant 
than  weak  toddy  made  of  cheap  whisky  and  water,  and  sweet- 
ened with  brown  sugar.  Therefore  to  her  this  strong,  sweet, 
rich  wine  was  nectar. 

"  Now,  this  ere  is  prime !  Now,  where  upon  the  face  of  the 
yeth  did  you  get  this  ? "  she  inquired,  as  she  sniffed  and  sipped 
the  beverage,  that  was  equally  grateful  to  smell  and  taste. 

"  A  friend  gave  it  to  Nora,  who  has  been  poorly,  you  know ; 
but  Nora  does  not  like  wine  herself,  and  I  would  advise  you 
not  to  drink  all  that,  for  it  would  certainly  get  in  your  head," 
said  Hannah. 

"  Law,  child,  I  wish  it  would ;  if  it  would  do  my  head  half 
as  much  good  as  it  is  a-doing  of  my  insides  this  blessed  minute  1 
after  being  out  in  the  snow,  too !  Why,  it  makes  me  feel  as  good 
as  preaching  all  over ! "  smiled  the  old  woman,  slowly  sniffing 
and  sipping  the  elixir  of  life,  while  her  bleared  eyes  shone  over 
the  rim  of  the  cup  like  phosphorus. 

"  But  how  came  you  out  in  the  snow,  Mrs.  Jones  ? "  inquired 
Hannah. 

"  Why,  my  dear,  good  child,  when  did  ever  I  stop  for  weather  ? 
I've  been  a-monthly  nussing  up  to  Colonel  Mervin's  for  the  last 
four  weeks,  and  my  time  was  up  to-day,  and  so  I  sat  out  to  come 
home;  and  first  I  stopped  on  my  way  and  got  my  tea  along  of 
Mrs.  Spicer,  at  Brudenell,  and  now  I  s'pose  I  shall  have  to 
stop  all  night  along  of  you.     Can  you  'commodate  me  ? " 

"  Of  course  we  can,"  said  Hannah.  "  You  can  sleep  with  me 
and  Nora;  you  will  be  rather  crowded,  but  that  won't  matter 
on  a  cold  night;  anyway,  it  will  be  better  than  for  you  to  try 
to  get  home  in  this  snow-storm." 

"  Thank  y',  children ;  and  now,  to  pay  you  for  that,  I  have 
got  sich  a  story  to  tell  you!  I've  been  saving  of  it  up  till  I 
got  dry  and  warm,  'cause  I  knew  if  I  did  but  give  you  a  hint 
of  it,  you'd  be  for  wanting  to  know  all  the  particulars  afora 
I  was  ready  to  tell  'em !  But  now  I  can  sit  myself  down  for  a 
good  comfortable  chat!  And  it  is  one,  too,  I  tell  you!  good 
as  a  novel !  "  said  the  old  woman,  nodded  her  head  knowingly. 

"Oh,  what  is  it  about,  Mrs.  Jones?"  inquired  Hannah  and 
Nora  in  a  breath,  as  they  stopped  knitting  and  drew  their 
chairs  nearer  together. 


THE  viCTnr.  79 

"  Well,  then,"  said  the  dame,  hitching  her  chair  between  the 
sisters,  placing  a  hand  upon  each  of  their  laps,  and  looking 
from  one  to  the  other — "  what  would  ye  give  to  know,  now  ?  " 

"  Nonsense !  a  night's  lodging  and  your  breakfast !  "  laughed 
!Nora. 

"  And  ye'll  get  your  story  cheap  enough  at  that !  And  now 
listen  and  open  your  eyes  as  wide  r  s  ever  you  can !  "  said  the 
dame,  repeating  her  emphatic  gestures  of  laying  her  hands 
heavily  upon  the  knees  of  the  visitors  and  looking  intently 
from  one  eager  face  to  the  other.  "Mr. — Herman — Brudenell 
— have — got — a — wife!  There,  now!  What  d'ye  think  o'  that! 
aint  you  struck  all  of  a  heap  ? " 

No,  they  were  not ;  Hannah's  face  was  perfectly  calm ;  Nora's 
indeed    was  radiant,  not  with  wonder,  but  with  joy! 

"  There,  Hannah !  What  did  I  tell  you !  "  she  exclaimed. 
*'Mrs.  Brudenell  has  spoken  to  him  and  ho  has  owned  his 
marriage !  But  dear  Mrs.  Jones,  tell  me — ^was  his  mother  very, 
very  angry  with  him  about  it  ? "  she  inquired,  turning  to  the 
visitor. 

"Angry?  Dear  heart,  no!  pleased  as  Punch!  'peared  's  if 
a  great  weight  was  lifted  offen  her  mind,"  replied  the  latter. 

"  There  again,  Hannah !  What  else  did  I  tell  you !  Herman's 
mother  is  a  Christian  lady!  She  ill-used  me  only  when  she 
thought  I  was  bad;  now  Herman  has  owned  his  marriage,  and 
she  is  pleased  to  find  that  it  is  all  right !  Now  isn't  that  good  ? 
Oh,  I  know  I  shall  love  her,  and  make  her  love  me,  too,  more 
than  any  high-bred,  wealthy  daughter-in-law  ever  could!  And 
T  shall  serve  her  more  than  any  of  her  own  children  ever  would ! 
And  she  will  find  out  the  true  worth  of  a  faithful,  affectionate, 
devoted  heart,  that  would  die  to  save  her  or  her  son,  or  live  to 
serve  both !  And  she  will  love  me  dearly  yet !  "  exclaimed 
N'ora,  with  a  glow  of  enthusiasm  suffusing  her  beautiful 
face. 

"  Now,  what  upon  the  face  of  the  yeth  be  that  gal  a-talking 
about  ?  I  want  to  tell  my  story !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Jones,  who 
Lad  been  listening  indignantly,  without  comprehending  entirely 
INora's  interruption. 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mrs.  Jones,"  laughed  the  latter, 
*'l  should  not  have  jumped  to  the  conclusion  of  your  story. 
I  should  have  let  you  tell  it  in  your  own  manner ;  though  I  doubt 
if  you  know  all  about  it  either,  from  the  way  you  talk." 

"  Don't  I,  though !    I  should  like  to  know  who  knows  more." 


80  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN"   THE   DEPTHS. 

"  Well,  now,  tell  us  all  about  it ! " 

"  YouVe  gone  and  put  me  out  now,  and  I  don't  know  where 
to  begin." 

"  Well,  then,  I'll  help  you  out — ^what  time  was  it  that  Mr. 
Brudenell  acknowledged  his  private  marriage  ? " 

"  There  now ;  how  did  you  know  it  was  a  private  marriage  ? 
I  never  said  nothing  about  it  being  private  yet!  Hows'ever, 
I  s'pose  you  so  clever  you  guessed  it,  and  anyway  you  guessed 
right;  it  v/ere  a  private  marriage.  And  when  did  he  own  up 
to  it,  you  ask?  Why,  not  as  long  as  he  could  help  it,  you  may 
depend!  Not  until  his  lawful  wife  actilly  arove  up  at  Brude- 
nell Hall,  and  that  v:as  last  night  about  one  o'clock !  " 

"  Oh,  there  you  are  very  much  mistaken ;  it  was  but  seven 
in  the  evening,"  said  K'ora. 

"There  now,  again!  how  do  you  know  anything  about  it? 
Somebody's  been  here  afore  me  and  been  a-telling  of  you,  I 
suppose;  and  a-telling  of  you  wrong,  too  !  "  petulantly  exclaimed 
the  old  woman. 

"  ISTo,  indeed,  there  has  not  been  a  soul  here  to-day ;  neither 
have  we  heard  a  word  from  Brudenell  Hall !  Still,  I  think  you 
must  be  mistaken  as  to  the  hour  of  the  wife's  arrival,  and 
perhaps  as  to  other  particulars,  too;  but  excuse  me,  dear  Mrs. 
Jones,  and  go  on  and  tell  the  story." 

"  Well,  but  what  made  you  say  it  was  seven  o'clock  when 
his  Vv'if e  arrove  ?  "  inquired  the  gossip. 

"  Because  that  was  really  the  hour  that  I  went  up  to  Brude- 
nell.    Hannah  was  with  me  and  knows  it." 

"  Law,  honey,  were  you  up  to  Brudenell  yesterday  evening  ?  '* 

"  To  be  sure  I  was !  I  thought  you  knew  it !  Haven't  you 
just  said  that  the  marriage  was  not  acknowledged  until  his 
wife  arrived  ? " 

"Why,  3'es,  honey;  but  what's  that  to  do  with  it?  with  you 
being  there,  I  mean?  Seems  to  me  there's  a  puzzlement  here 
between  us  ?    Did  you  stay  there  till  one  o'clock,  honey  ?  " 

"  Why,  no,  of  course  not !    We  came  away  at  eight." 

"  Then  I'm  blessed  if  I  know  what  you're  a-driving  at !  For, 
in  course,  if  you  come  away  at  eight  o'clock  you  couldn't  a-seen 
her." 

"  Seen  whom  ?  "  questioned  Nora. 

"  Why,  laws,  his  wife,  child,  as  never  arrove  till  one  o'clock." 

Nora  burst  out  laughing;  and  in  the  midst  of  her  mirthf ill- 
ness exclaimed: 


THE    VICTIM.  81 

"■There,  now,  Mrs.  Jones,  I  thought  you  didn't  know  half 
the  rights  of  the  story  you  promised  to  tell  us,  and  now  I'm 
sure  of  it !  Seems  like  you've  heard  Mr.  Brudenell  has  acknowl- 
edged his  marriage;  hut  you  haven't  even  found  out  who  the 
lady  is!  Well,  I  could  tell  you;  but  I  won't  yet,  without  his 
leave." 

"  So  you  know  all  about  it,  after  all?    How  did  you  find  out?  " 

"  Never  mind  how ;  you'll  find  out  how  I  knew  it  when  you 
he^r  the  bride's  name,"  laughed  Nora. 

"  But  I  have  hearn  the  bride's  name ;  and  a  rum  un  it  is, 
too!  Lady,  Lady  Hoist?  no!  Hurl?  no!  Hurt?  yes,  that  is 
it!  Lady  Hurt-me-so,  that's  the  name  of  the  lady  he's  done 
married ! "  said  the  old  woman   confidently. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha !  I  tell  you  what,  Hannah,  she  has  had  too  much 
wine,  and  it  has  got  into  her  poor  old  head !  "  laughed  Nora, 
laying  her  hand  caressingly  upon  the  red-cotton  handkerchief 
that  covered  the  gray  hair  of  the  gossip. 

"  No,  it  aint,  nuther !  I  never  drunk  the  half  of  what  you 
gin  me !  I  put  it  up  there  on  the  mantel,  and  kivered  it  over 
with  the  brass  candlestick,  to  keep  till  I  go  to  bed.  No,  indeed ! 
my  head-piece  is  as  clear  as  a  bell ! "  said  the  old  woman, 
nodding. 

"  But  what  put  it  in  there,  then,  that  Mr.  Herman  Brude- 
nell has  married  a  lady  with  a  ridiculous  name  ? "  laughed 
Nora. 

"  Acause  he  have,  honey !  which  I  would  a-told  you  all  about 
it  ef  you  hadn't  a-kept  on,  and  kept  on,  and  kept  on  inter- 
rupting of  me !  " 

"  Nora,"  said  Hannah,  speaking  for  the  first  time  in  many 
minutes,  and  looking  very  grave,  "she  has  something  to  tell, 
and  we  had  better  let  her  tell  it." 

"  Very  well,  then !    I'm  agreed !    Go  on,  Mrs.  Jones !  " 

"  Hem-m-m !  "  began  Mrs.  Jones,  loudly  clearing  her  throat. 
"New  I'll  tell  you,  jest  as  I  got  it,  this  arternoon,  first  from 
TJncle  Jovial,  and  then  from  Mi-s.  Spicer,  and  then  from 
Ma,dam  Brudenell  herself,  and  last  of  all  from  my  own  precious 
eyesight!  'Bears  like  Mr.  Herman  Briidenell  fell  in  long  o' 
this  Lady  Hurl-my-soul — Hurt-me-so,  I  mean, — ^while  he  was 
out  yonder  in  forring  parts.  And  'pears  she  was  a  very  great 
lady  indeed,  and  a  beautiful  young  widder  besides.  So  she 
and  Mr.  Brudenell,  they  fell  in  love  long  of  each  other.  But 
law,  you  see  her  kinfolks  was  bitter  agin  her  a-marrying  of 


82  ishmael;  ok,  in  the  depths. 

him — ^whicb.  they  called  him  a  commoner,  as  isn't  true,  you 
know,  'cause  he  is  not  one  of  the  common  sort  at  all — though  I 
s'pose  they  being  so  high,  looked  down  upon  him  as  sich.  Well, 
anyways,  they  was  as  bitter  against  her  marrying  of  him,  aa 
his  kinsfolks  would  be  agin  him  a-marrying  of  you.  And,  to 
be  sure,  being  of  a  widder,  she  a-done  as  she  pleased,  only  she 
didn't  want  to  give  no  offense  to  her  old  father,  who  was  very 
rich  and  very  proud  of  her,  who  was  his  onliest  child  he  ever  had 
in  the  world;  so  to  make  a  long  rigamarole  short,  they  runned 
away,  so  they  did,  Mr.  Brudenell  and  her,  and  they  got  married 
private,  and  never  let  the  old  man  know  it  long  as  ever  he 
lived " 

"  Hannah !  what  is  she  talking  about  ? "  gasped  l^ora,  wlio 
heard  the  words,  but  could  not  take  in  the  sense  of  this  story. 

"Hush!  I  do  not  know  yet,  myself;  there  is  some  mistake  1 
listen,"  whispered  Hannah,  putting  her  arms  over  her  young 
sister's  shoulders,  for  Nora  was  then  seated  on  the  floor  beside 
Hannah's  chair,  with  her  head  upon  Hannah's  lap.  Mrs.  Jones 
went  straight  on. 

"  And  so  that  was  easy  enough,  too ;  as  soon  arter  they  waci 
married,  Mr.  Herman  Brudenell,  you  know,  he  was  a-coming 
of  age,  and  so  he  had  to  be  home  to  do  business  long  of  his 
guardeens,  and  take  possession  of  his  'states  and  so  on;  and 
so  he  come,  and  kept  his  birthday  last  April !    And " 

"  Hannah !  Hannah !  what  does  this  all  mean  ?  It  cannot 
be  true!  I  know  it  is  not  true!  And  yet,  oh.  Heaven!  every 
word  she  speaks  goes  through  my  heart  like  a  red  hot  spear  I 
Woman!  do  you  mean  to  say  that  Mr. — Mr.  Herman  Brude- 
nell left  a  wife  in  Europe  when  he  came  back  here  ? "  cried 
Nora,  clasping  her  hands  in  vague,  incredulous  anguish. 

"Hush,  hush,  Nora,  be  quiet,  my  dear.  The  very  question 
you  ask  does  wrong  to  your — to  Herman  Brudenell,  who  with 
all  his  faults  is  still  the  soul  of  honor,"  murmured  Hannah 
soothingly. 

"Yes,  I  know  he  is;  and  yet — but  there  is  some  stupid  mis 
take,"  sighed  Nora,  dropping  her  head  upon  her  sister's  lap. 

Straight  through  this  low,  loving  talk  went  the  words  of  Mrs. 
Jones : 

"  Well,  now^  I  can't  take  upon  myself  to  say  whether  it  was 
Europe  or  London,  or  which  of  them  outlandish  places;  but, 
anyways,  in  some  on  'em  he  did  leave  his  wife  a-living  along 
of  her  'pa.    But,  you  see  'bout  a  month  ago,  her  'pa  he  died. 


TKE   YICTIlVr.  83 

a-leaving  of  all  his  property  to  his  onlicst  darter,  Lady  Hoist, 
H\irl,  Hurt,  Hurt-my-toe.  No!  Hurt-me-so,  Lady  Hurt-me- 
so!  I  never  can  get  the  hang  of  her  outlandish  name.  Well, 
then  you  know  there  wa'n't  no  call  to  keep  the  marriage  secret 
no  more.  So  what  does  my  lady  do  but  want  to  put  a  joyful 
surprise  on  the  top  of  her  husband;  so  without  writing  of  him 
a  word  of  what  she  was  a-gwine  to  do,  soon  as  ever  the  old 
man  was  buried  and  the  will  read,  off  she  sets  and  comes  over 
the  sea  to  New  York,  and  took  a  boat  there  for  Baymouth, 
and  hired  of  a  carriage  and  rid  over  to  Brudenell  Hall,  and 
arrove  there  at  one  o'clock  last  night,  as  I  telled  you  afore ! " 

"Are  you  certain  that  all  this  is  true?"  murmured  Hannah, 
in  a  husky  undertone. 

"Hi,  Miss  Hannah,  didn't  Jovial,  and  Mrs.  Spicer,  and 
Madam  Brudenell  herself  tell  me?  And  besides  I  seen  the 
young  cre'tur'  myself,  with  my  own  eyes,  dressed  in  deep  mourn- 
ing, which  it  was  a  fine  black  crape  dress  out  and  out,  and  a 
sweet  pretty  cre'tur*  she  was  too,  only  so  pale !  " 

"  Hannah!  "  screamed  Nora,  starting  up,  "  it  is  false!  I  know 
it  is  false !  but  I  shall  go  raving  mad  if  I  do  not  prove  it  so ! " 
And  she  rushed  to  the  door,  tore  it  open,  and  ran  out  into  the 
night  and  storm. 

"  What  in  the  name  of  the  law  ails  her  ? "  inquired  Mrs. 
Jones. 

"  Nora !  Nora !  Nora !  "  cried  Hannah,  running  after  her. 
''  Come  back !  come  in !  you  will  get  your  death !  Are  you 
crazy?  Where  are  you  going  in  the  snowstorm  this  time  of 
night,  without  your  bonnet  and  shawl,  too  ? " 

"  To  Brudenell  Hall,  to  find  out  the  rights  of  this  story  " 
were  the  words  that  came  from  a  great  distance  wafted  by  the 
wind. 

"  Come  back !  come  back ! "  shrieked  Hannah.  But  there 
was  no  answer. 

Hannah  rushed  into  the  hut,  seized  her  ovtn  bonnet  and 
shawl  and  Nora's,  and  ran  out  again. 

"Where  are  you  going?  What's  the  matter?  What  ails 
that  girl  ?  "  cried  old  Mrs.  Jones. 

Hannah  never  even  thought  of  answering  her,  but  sped  down, 
the  narrow  path  leading  into  the  valley,  and  through  it  up 
towards  Brudenell  as  fast  as  the  dark  night,  the  falling  snow, 
and  the  slippery  ground  wovdd  permit;  but  it  was  too  lato; 
the  fleet-footed  Nora  was  far  in  advance. 


84  ishma:el  j  or,  m  the  depths. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  RIVALS. 

One  word — yes  or  no  !  and  it  means 
Death  or  life  I     Speak,  are  you  his  wife  ? 

— Anon. 

Heedless  as  the  mad,  of  night,  of  storm,  and  danger,  ISTora 
hurried  desperately  on.  She  was  blinded  by  the  darkness 
and  smothered  by  the  thickly-falling  snow,  and  torn  by  the 
thorns  and  briars  of  the  bi'ushwood;  but  not  for  these  impedi- 
ments would  the  frantic  girl  abate  her  speed.  She  slipped 
often,  hurt  herself  sometimes,  and  once  she  fell  and  rolled  down 
the  steep  hill-side  until  stopped  by  a  clump  of  cedars.  But 
she  scrambled  up,  wet,  wounded,  and  bleeding,  and  tore  on. 
through  the  depths  of  the  valley  and  up  the  opposite  heights. 
Panting,  breathless,  dying  almost,  she  reached  Brudenell  Hall. 

The  house  was  closely  shut  up  to  exclude  the  storm,  and  out- 
side the  strongly  barred  window-shutters  there  was  a  barricade 
of  drifted  snow.  The  roofs  were  all  deeply  covered  with  snow, 
and  it  was  only  by  its  faint  v>?hite  glare  in  the  darkness  that 
Nora  found  her  way  to  the  house.  Her  feet  sank  half  a  leg 
deep  in  the  drifts  as  she  toiled  on  towards  the  servants'  door. 
All  was  darkness  there !  if  there  was  any  light,  it  was  too  closely 
shut  in  to  gleam  abroad. 

For  a  moment  Nora  leaned  against  the  wall  to  recover  a 
little  strength,  and  then  she  knocked.  But  she  had  to  repeat 
the  summons  again  and  again  before  the  door  was  opened. 
Then  old  Jovial  appeared — his  mouth  and  eyes  wide  open  with 
astonishment  at  seeing  the  visitor. 

"  Name  o'  de  law,  Miss  Nora,  dis  you  ?  "What  de  matter  ? 
Is  you  clean  tuk  leave  of  your  senses  to  be  a-comin'  up  here, 
dis  hour  of  de  night  in  snowstorm  ? "  he  cried. 

"  Let  me  in.  Jovial !  Is  Mr.  Herman  Brudenell  at  home  ?  " 
gasped  Nora,  as  without  waiting  for  an  answer  she  pushed  past 
him  and  sunk  into  the  nearest  chair. 

"  Marser  Bredinell  home  ?  No,  miss !  Nor  likewise  been 
home  since  late  last  night.  He  went  away  'mediately  arter 
inter doocing  de  young  madam  to  de  ole  one;  which  she  tum^bled 
in  upon  us  with  a  whole  raft  of  waiting  maids,  and  men,  and 
dogs,  and  birds,  and  gold  fishes,  and  debil  knows  what  all  be- 


THE    RIVALS.  85 

sides,  long  arter  midnight  last  night — and  so  he  hasn't  been 
hearn  on  since,  and  de  fambly  is  in  de  greatest  'stress  and 
anxiety.  Particular  she,  poor  thing,  as  corned  so  far  to  see 
him!  And  we  no  more  s'picioning  as  he  had  a  wife,  nor  any- 
thing at  all,  'til  she  tumbled  right  in  on  top  of  us !  Law,  Miss 
Nora,  somefin  werry  particular  must  have  fetch  you  out  in  de 
snow  to-night,  and  'deed  you  do  look  like  you  had  heard  bad 
news !     Has  you  hearn  anything  'bout  him,  honey  ?  " 

"  Is  it  true,  then  ? "  moaned  Nora,  in  a  dying  tone,  without 
heeding  his  last  question. 

"  Which  true,  honey  ?  " 

"  About  the  foreign  lady  coming  here  last  night  and  claim- 
ing to  be  his  wife  ?  " 

"  As  true  as  gospel,  honey — ^w^hich  you  may  judge  the  aston- 
ishment is  put  on  to  us  all." 

"  Jovial,  where  is  the  lady  ?  " 

"  Up  in  de  drawing-room,  honey,  if  she  has  not  'tired  to  her 
chamber." 

"  Show  me  up  there.  Jovial,  I  must  see  her  for  myself,"  Nora 
"wailed,  with  her  head  fallen  upon  her  chest. 

"  Now,  sure  as  the  world,  honey,  you  done  heard  somefin 
'bout  de  poor  young  marser?  Is  he  come  to  an  accident, 
honey  ? "  inquired  the  man   very  uneasily. 

"  Who  ?  "  questioned  Nora  vaguely. 

"The  young  marser,  honey;  Mr.  Herman  Brudenell,  chile!" 

"  What  of  him  ? "  cried  Nora — a  sharp  new  anxiety  added 
to  her  woe. 

"  Why,  law,  honey,  aint  I  just  been  a-telling  of  you  ?  In  one 
half  an  hour  arter  de  forein  lady  tumbled  in,  young  marse  lef 
de  house  an'  haint  been  seen  nor  heard  on  since.  I  t'ought 
maybe  you'd  might  a  hearn  what's  become  of  him.  It  is  mighty 
hard  on  her,  poor  young  creatur,  to  be  fairly  forsok  de  very 
night  she  come." 

"  Ah !  "  cried  Nora,  in  the  sharp  tones  of  pain — "  take  me 
to  that  lady  at  once!  I  must,  must  see  her!  I  must  hear 
from  her  own  lips — the  truth !  " 

"  Come  along  then,  chile !  Sure  as  the  worl'  you  has  beam 
somefin,  dough  you  won't  tell  me;  for  I  sees  it  in  your  face; 
you's  as  white  as  a  sheet,  an'  all  shakin'  like  a  leaf  an'  ready 
to  drop  down  dead !  You  won't  let  on  to  me ;  but  mayhaps  you 
may  to  her,"  said  Jovial,  as  he  led  the  way  along  the  lighted 
halls  to  the  drawing-room  door,  which  he  opened,  announcing: 


86  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   TIIE   DEPTHS. 

"  Here's  Miss  Nora  Worth,  mistess,  come  to  see  Lady  Hurt- 
my-soul." 

And  as  soon  as  Nora,  more  like  a  gliost  than  a  living  crea- 
ture, had  glided  in,  he  shut  the  door,  went  down  on  his  knees 
outside  and  applied  his  ear  to  the  key-hole. 

Meanwhile  Nora  found  herself  once  more  in  the  gorgeously 
furnished,  splendidly  decorated,  and  brilliantly  lighted  draw- 
ing room  that  had  been  the  scene  of  her  last  night's  humili- 
ation. But  she  did  not  think  of  that  now,  in  this  supreme 
crisis  of  her  fate. 

Straight  before  her,  opposite  the  door  by  which  she  entered, 
was  an  interesting  tableau,  in  a  dazzling  light — it  was  a 
sumptuous  fireside  picture — the  coal-fire  glowing  between  the 
polished  steel  bars  of  the  wide  grate,  the  white  marble  mantel- 
piece, and  above  that,  reaching  to  the  lofty  ceiling,  a  full-length 
portrait  of  Herman  Brudenell ;  before  the  fire  an  inlaid  mosaic 
table,  covered  with  costly  books,  work-boxes,  hand-screens,  a 
vase  of  hot-house  flowers,  and  other  elegant  trifles  of  luxury; 
on  the  right  of  this,  in  a  tall  easy-chair,  sat  Mrs.  Brudenell; 
on  this  side  sat  the  Misses  Brudenell;  these  three  ladies  were 
all  dressed  in  slight  mourning,  if  black  silk  dresses  and  white 
lace  collars  can  be  termed  such;  and  they  were  all  engaged 
in  the  busy  idleness  of  crochet  work ;  but  on  a  luxurious  crimson 
velvet  sofa,  drawn  up  to  the  left  side  of  the  fire,  reclined  a  lady 
dressed  in  the  deepest  mourning,  and  having  her  delicate  pale, 
sad  face  half  veiled  by  her  long,  soft  black  ringlets. 

While  Nora  gazed  breathlessly  upon  this  pretty  creature, 
■whom  she  recognized  at  once  as  the  stranger,  Mrs.  Brudenell 
slowly  raised  her  head  and  stared  at  Nora. 

"  You  here,  Nora  Worth !  How  dare  you  ?  Who  had  the 
insolence  to  let  you  in?  "  she  said,  rising  and  advancing  to  the 
bell-cord.  But  before  she  could  pull  it  Nora  Worth  lifted  her 
hand  with  that  commanding  power  despair  often  lends  to  the 
Lumblest,  and  said: 

"  Stop,  madam,  this  is  no  time  to  heap  unmerited  scorn  upon 
one  crushed  to  the  dust  already,  and  whose  life  cannot  possibly 
offend  you  or  cumber  the  earth  much  longer.  I  wish  to  speak 
to  that  lady." 

"  With  me !  "  exclaimed  Lady  Hurstmonceux,  rising  upon 
her  elbow  and  gazing  with  curiosity  upon  the  beautiful  statue 
that  was  gliding  toward  her  as  if  it  were  moved  by  invisible 
means. 


THE  EIVALS.  87 

Mrs.  Brudenell  paused  with  her  hand  upon  the  bell-tassel 
and  looked  at  Xora,  whose  lovely  face  seemed  to  have  been 
thus  turned  to  stone  in  some  moment  of  mortal  suffering,  so 
agonized  and  yet  so  still  it  looked !  Her  hair  had  fallen  loose 
and  hung  in  long,  wet,  black  strings  about  her  white  bare  neck, 
for  she  had  neither  shawl  nor  bonnet;  her  clothes  were  soaked 
■with  the  melted  snow,  and  she  had  lost  one  shoe  in  her  wild 
night  walk. 

Mrs.  Brudenell  shuddered  with  aversion  as  she  looked  at; 
Nora;  when  she  found  her  voice  she  said: 

"  Do  not  let  her  approach  you,  Berenice.  She  is  but  a  low 
creature;  not  fit  to  speak  to  one  of  the  decent  negroes 
even;  and  besides  she  is  wringing  wet  and  will  give  you  a 
cold." 

"Poor  thing!  she  will  certainly  take  one  herself,  mamma; 
she  looks  too  miserable  to  live!  If  you  please,  I  would  rather 
talk  with  her !  Come  here,  my  poor,  poor  girl !  what  is  it  that 
troubles  you  so  ?  Tell  me !  Can  I  help  you  ?  I  will,  cheerfully, 
if  I  can."  And  the  equally  "  poor  "  lady,  poor  in  happiness  as 
Nora  herself,  put  her  hand  in  her  pocket  and  drew  forth  an. 
elegant  portmonnaie  of  jet. 

"  Put  up  your  purse,  lady !  It  is  not  help  that  I  want — save 
from  God !  I  want  but  a  true  answer  to  one  single  question, 
if  you  will  give  it  to  me." 

"  Certainly,  I  will,  my  poor  creature ;  but  stand  nearer  the 
fire ;  it  will  dry  your  clothes  while  we  talk." 

"  Thank  you,  madam,  I  do  not  need  to." 

"  Well,  then,  ask  me  the  question  that  you  wish  to  have 
answered.  Don't  be  afraid,  I  give  you  leave,  you  know,"  said 
the  lady  kindly. 

Nora  hesitated,  shivered,  and  gasped;  but  could  not  then, 
ask  the  question  that  was  to  confirm  her  fate;  it  was  worse 
than  throwing  the  dice  upon  which  a  whole  fortune  was  staked ; 
it  was  like  giving  the  signal  for  the  ax  to  fall  upon  her  own 
neck.  At  last,  however,  it  came,  in  low,  fearful,  but  distinct 
words : 

"  Madam,  are  you  the  wife  of  Mr.  Herman  Brudenell  ? " 

"  Nora  Worth,  how  dare  you  ?  Leave  the  room  and  the  house 
this  instant,  before  I  send  for  a  constable  and  have  you  taken, 
away  ? "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Brudenell,  violently  pulling  at  the 
bell-cord. 

**  Mamma,  she  is  insane,  poor  thing !  do  not  be  hard  on  her," 


88  ISHMAEL  ;    OE)    '.'N   THE   DEPTHS. 

said  Lady  Hurstmonceux    gently;  and  then  turning  to  pool* 
Nora  she  answered,  in  the  manner  of  one  humoring  a  maniac : 

"Yes,  my  poor  girl,  I  am  the  wife  of  Mr.  Herman  Brude- 
nell.     Can  I  do  anything  for  you  ?  " 

"  JSTothing,  madam,"  was  the  answer  that  came  sad,  sweet, 
and  low  as  the  wail  of  an  Aeolian  harp  swept  by  the  south 
wind. 

The  stranger  lady's  eyes  were  bent  with  deep  pity  upon  her ; 
but  before  she  could  speak  again  Mrs.  Brudeneli  broke  into  the 
discourse  by  exclaiming: 

"  Do  not  speak  to  her,  Berenice !  I  warned  you  not  to  let 
her  speak  to  you,  but  you  would  not  take  my  advice,  and  now 
you  have  been  insulted." 

"  But,  mamma,  she  is  insane,  poor  thing ;  some  great  misery 
has  turned  her  brain;  I  am  very  sorry  for  her,"  said  the  kind- 
hearted  stranger. 

"  I  tell  you  she  is  not !  She  is  as  sane  as  you  are !  Look 
at  her!  Not  in  that  amazed,  pitying  manner,  but  closely  and 
critically,  and  you  will  see  what  she  is;  one  of  those  low  crea- 
tures who  are  the  shame  of  women  and  the  scorn  of  men.  And 
if  she  has  misery  for  her  portion,  she  has  brought  it  upon  her- 
self, and  it  is  a  just  punishment." 

The  eyes  of  Lady  Hurstmonceux  turned  again  upon  the 
■unfortunate  young  creature  before  her,  and  this  time  she  did 
examine  her  attentively,  letting  her  gaze  rove  over  her 
form. 

This  time  Nora  did  not  lift  up  her  hands  to  cover  her  burn- 
ing face;  that  marble  face  could  never  bum  or  blush  again; 
since  speaking  her  last  words  Nora  had  remained  standing  like 
one  in  a  trance,  stone  still,  with  her  head  fallen  upon  her 
breast,  and  her  arms  hanging  listlessly  by  her  side.  She  seemed 
dead  to  all  around  her. 

Not  so  Lady  Hurstmonceux;  as  her  eyes  roved  over  this 
form  of  stone  her  pale  face  suddenly  flushed,  her  dark  eyes 
flashed,  and  she  sprang  up  from  the  sofa,  asking  the  same 
question  that  Mrs.  Brudeneli  had  put  the  evening  before. 

"  Girl !  what  is  it  to  you  whether  Mr.  Brudeneli  has  a  wife 
or  not  ?    What  are  you  to  Mr.  Herman  Brudeneli  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  madam ;  nothing  for  evermore,"  wailed  Nora, 
without  looking  up  or  changing  her  posture. 

"  Humph !  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,  I  am  sure ! "  grunted  Mrs. 
Brudeneli. 


THE   RIVALS.  89 

"Nothing?  you  say;  nothing?"  questioned  Lady  Hurstmon- 
ceux. 

"Nothing  in  this  world,  madam;  nothing  whatever!  so  be 
at  ease."    It  was  another  wail  of  the  storm-swept  heart-strings. 

"  I  truly  believe  you ;  I  ought  to  have  believed  without  asking 
you ;  but  who,  then,  has  been  your  betrayer,  my  poor  girl  ? " 
inquired  the  young  matron  in  tones  of  deepest  pity. 

This  question  at  length  shook  the  statue;  a  storm  passed 
through  her;  she  essayed  to  speak,  but  her  voice  failed. 

"  Tell  me,  poor  one ;  and  I  will  do  what  I  can  to  right  your 
wrongs.     Who  is  it  ?  " 

"  Myself !  "  moaned  Nora,  closing  her  eyes  as  if  to  shut  out 
all  light  and  life,  while  a  spasm  drew  back  the  corners  of  her 
mouth  and  convulsed  her  face. 

"  Enough  of  this,  Berenice !  You  forget  the  girls  !  "  said  Mrs. 
Brudenell,  putting  her  hand  to  the  bell  and  ringing  again. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  madam ;  I  did  indeed  forget  the  presence 
of  the  innocent  and  happy  in  looking  upon  the  erring  and 
"wi'etched,"  said  Lady  Hurstmonceux. 

"  That  will  do,"  said  the  elder  lady.  "Here  is  Jovial  at  lastl 
Why  did  you  not  come  when  I  first  rang  ? "  she  demanded  of 
the  negro,  who  now  stood  in  the  door. 

"  I  'clare,  mist'ess,  I  never  heerd  it  de  fust  time,  madam." 

"Keep  your  ears  open  in  future,  or  it  will  be  the  worse  for 
you!  And  now  what  excuse  can  you  offer  for  disobeying  my 
express  orders,  and  not  only  admitting  this  creature  to  the 
house,  but  even  bringing  her  to  our  presence  ? "  demanded  the 
lady   severely. 

"  I  clare  'fore  my  'vine  Marster,  madam,  when  Miss  Nora 
come  in  de  storm  to  de  kitchen-door,  looking  so  wild  and  scared 
like,  and  asked  to  see  de  young  madam  dere,  I  t'ought  in  my 
soul  how  she  had  some  news  of  de  young  marster  to  tell!  an' 
dat  was  de  why  I  denounced  her  into  dis  drawin'-room." 

"  Do  not  make  such  a  mistake  again !  if  you  do  I  will  make 
you  suffer  severely  for  it !  And  you,  shameless  girl !  if  you  pre- 
sume to  set  foot  on  these  premises  but  once  again,  I  will  have 
you  sent  to  the  work-house  as  a  troublesome  vagrant." 

Nora  did  not  seem  to  hear  her;  she  had  relapsed  into  her 
stony,  trance-like  stupor. 

"  And  now,  sir,  since  you  took  the  liberty  of  bringing  her  in, 
put  her  out — out  of  the  room,  and  out  of  the  house !  "  said  Mrs. 
Brudenell. 


90  ishmael;  oe.  in  the  depths. 

"  Mamma !  what !  at  midnight !  in  the  snow-storm  ? "  ex- 
claimed Lady  Hurstmonceux,  in  horror. 

"  Yes !  she  shall  not  desecrate  the  bleakest  garret,  or  the 
lowest  cellar,  or  barest  bam  on  the  premises !  " 

"  Mamma !  It  would  be  murder !  She  would  perish !  " 
pleaded  the  young  lady. 

"Not  she!  Such  animals  are  used  to  exposure!  And  if 
she  and  all  like  her  were  to  'perish,'  as  you  call  it,  the  world 
would  be  so  much  the  better  for  it!  They  are  the  pests  of 
society ! " 

"  Mamma,  in  pity,  look  at  her !  consider  her  situation !  She 
would  surely  die !  and  not  alone,  mamma !  think  of  that ! " 
pleaded  Berenice. 

"  Jovial !  am  I  to  be  obeyed  or  not  ? "  sternly  demanded  the 
elder  lady. 

"Come,  Miss  Nora;  come,  my  poor,  poor  child,"  said  Jovial, 
in  a  low  tone,  taking  the  arm  of  the  miserable  girl,  who  turned, 
mechanically,  to  be  led  away. 

"  Jovial,  stop  a  moment !  Mrs.  Brudenell,  I  have  surely  some 
little  authority  in  my  husband's  house;  authority  that  I  should 
l>e  ashamed  to  claim  in  the  presence  of  his  mother,  were  it  not 
to  be  exercised  in  the  cause  of  humanity.  This  girl  must  not 
leave  the  house  to-night,"  said  Berenice  respectfully,  but  firmly. 

"  Lady  Hurstmonceux,  if  you  did  but  know  what  excellent 
cause  you  have  to  loathe  that  creature,  you  would  not  oppose 
xny  orders  respecting  her;  if  you  keep  her  under  your  roof  this 
night  you  degrade  yourself;  and,  finally,  if  she  does  not  leave 
the  house  at  once  I  and  my  daughters  must — ^midnight  and 
snow-storm,  notwithstanding.  We  are  not  accustomed  to  domi- 
cile with  such  wretches,"  said  the  old  lady   grimly. 

Berenice  was  not  prepared  for  this  extreme  issue ;  Mrs.  Brude- 
nell's  threat  of  departing  with  her  daughters  at  midnight,  and 
in  the  storm,  shocked  and  alarmed  her;  and  the  other  words 
reawakened  her  jealous  misgivings.  Dropping  the  hand  that 
she  had  laid  protectingly  upon  Nora's  shoulder,  she  said: 

"It  shall  be  as  you  please,  madam.  I  shall  not  interfere 
again." 

This  altercation  had  now  aroused  poor  Nora  to  the  con- 
sciousness that  she  herself  was  a  cause  of  dispute  between  the 
two  ladies;  so  putting  her  hand  to  her  forehead  and  looking 
around  in  a  bewildered  way,  she  said : 

"  No ;  it  is  true;  I  have  no  right  to  stop  here  now;  I  will  go !  " 


THE    RIVAP8.  91 

"  Jovial,"  said  Berenice,  addressing  the  negro,  "  have  you 
a  wife  and  a  cabin  of  your  own  ? " 

"  Yes,  madam ;  at  your  sarvice." 

"  Then  let  it  be  at  my  service  in  good  earnest  to-night.  Jovial; 
take  this  poor  girl  home,  and  ask  your  wife  to  take  care  of 
her  to-night;  and  receive  this  as  your  compensation,"  she  said, 
putting  a  piece  of  gold  in  the  hand  of  the  man. 

"  There  can  be  no  objection  to  that,  I  suppose,  madam? "  she 
inquired  of  Mrs.  Brudenell. 

*'  None  in  the  world,  unless  Dinah  objects ;  it  is  not  every 
honest  negro  woman  that  will  consent  to  have  a  creature  like 
that  thrust  upon  her.     Take  her  away.  Jovial !  " 

"  Come,  Miss  Nora,  honey ;  my  ole  'oman  aint  agwine  to 
turn  you  away  for  your  misfortins:  we  leabes  dat  to  white 
folk;  she'll  be  a  mother  to  you,  honey;  and  I'll  be  a  father; 
an'  I  wish  in  my  soul  as  I  knowed  de  man  as  wronged  you; 
if  I  did,  if  I  didn't  give  him  a  skin-full  ob  broken  bones  if  he 
was  as  white  as  cotton  wool,  if  I  didn't,  my  name  aint  Mr. 
Jovial  Brudenell,  esquire,  and  I  aint  no  gentleman.  And  if  Mr. 
Reuben  Gray  don't  hunt  him  up  and  punish  him,  he  aint  no 
gentleman,  neither !  "  said  Jovial,  as  he  carefully  led  his  half 
fainting  charge  along  the  passages  back  to  the  kitchen. 

The  servants  had  all  gone  to  bed,  except  Jovial,  whose  duty 
it  was,  as  major-domo,  to  go  all  around  the  house  the  last 
thing  at  night  to  fasten  the  doors  and  windows  and  put  out 
the  fires  and  lights.  So  when  they  reached  the  kitchen  it  was 
empty,  though  a  fine  fire  was  burning  in  the  ample  chimney. 

"  There,  my  poor  hunted  hare,  you  sit  down  there  an'  warm 
yourself  good,  while  I  go  an'  wake  up  my  ole  'oman,  an'  fetch 
her  here  to  get  something  hot  for  you,  afore  takin'  of  you  to  de 
cabin,  an'  likewise  to  make  a  fire  dere  for  you;  for  I  'spects 
Dinah  hab  let  it  go  out,"  said  the  kind-hearted  old  man,  gently 
depositing  his  charge  upon  a  seat  in  the  chimney  corner  and 
leaving  her  there  while  he  went  to  prepare  for  her  comfort. 

When  she  was  alone  Nora,  who  had  scarcely  heeded  a  word 
of  his  exhortation,  sat  for  a  few  minutes  gazing  woefully  into 
vacancy;  then  she  put  her  hand  to  her  forehead,  passing  it  to 
and  fro,  as  if  to  clear  away  a  mist — a  gesture  common  to  human 
•creatures  bewildered  with  sorrow;  then  suddenly  crying  out: 

"My  Lord!  It  is  true!  and  I  have  no  business  here!  It 
is  a  sin  and  a  shame  to  be  here !  or  anywhere !  anywhere  in  the 
world  I"     And  throwing  up  her  arms  with  a  gesture  of  wild 


92  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IX    THE   DEPTHS. 

despair,  she  sprang  up,  tore  open  the  door,  and  the  second  time 
that  night   rushed  out  into  the  storm  and  darlcness. 

The  vrarm,  light  kitchen  remained  untenanted  for  perhaps 
twenty  minutes,  when  Jovial,  with  his  Dinah  on  his  arm  and 
a  lantern  in  his  hand,  entered.  Jovial  grumbling: 

*•  Law-a-mity  knows,  I  don't  see  what  she  should  be  a-wsntin' 
to  come  here  for!  partic'lar  arter  de  treatment  she  'ceived 
from  ole  mis'tess  las'  night!  tain't  sich  a  par'dise  nohow  for 
nobody — much  less  for  she !  Hi,  'oman !  "  he  suddenly  cried, 
turning  the  rays  of  the  lantern  in  all  directions,  though  the 
kitchen  was  quite  light  enough  without  them. 

"  What  de  matter  now,  ole  man  ? "  asked  Dinah. 

"  Where  Xora  ?  I  lef  her  here  an'  she  aint  here  now !  where 
she  gone  ? " 

"  Hi,  ole  man,  what  you  ax  me  for  ?  how  you  'speet  I 
know  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  'clare  ef  dat  don't  beat  eberyting ! " 

"  Maybe  she  done  gone  back  in  de  house  ag'in ! "  suggested 
Dinah. 

"Maybe  she  hab;  I  go  look;  but  stop,  first  let  me  look  out'n. 
de  door  to  see  if  she  went  away,"  said  Jovial,  going  to  the 
door  and  holding  the  lantern  down  near  the  ground. 

"  Yes,  Dinah,  'oman,  here  day  is ;  little  foot-prints  in  de  snow 
a-goin'  away  from  de  house  an'  almost  covered  up  now!  She 
done  gone!  Xow  don't  dat  beat  eberything?  Xow  she'll  be 
froze  to  death,  'less  I  goes  out  in  de  storm  to  look  for  her; 
an'  maybe  she'll  be  froze  anyway;  for  dere's  no  sartainty  'bout 
my  findin'  of  her.  Xow  aint  dat  a  trial  for  any  colored  gentle- 
man's narves !  Well  den,  here  goes !  Wait  for  me  here,  ole 
'oman,  till  I  come  back,  and  if  I  nebber  comes,  all  I  leabes  is 
youm,  you  know,"  sighed  the  old  man,  setting  down  the  lantern 
and  b^inning  to  button  up  his  great  coat  preparatory  to  brav- 
ing the  storm. 

But  at  this  moment  a  figure  came  inshing  through  the  snow 
towards  the  kitchen  door. 

"  Here  she  is  now ;  now,  ole  'oman !  get  de  gruel  ready !  "  ex- 
claimed Jovial,  as  the  snow-covered  form  rushed  in.  "  Xo,  it 
aint,  nyther!  Miss  Hannah!  My  goodness,  gracious  me  alibe, 
is  all  de  worl'  gone  ravin',  starin',  'stracted  m?d  to-night? 
WTiat  de  debil  f  otch  you  cut  in  de  storm  at  midnieht  ? "  he 
asked,  as  Hannah  Worth  threw  off  her  shawl  and  stood  in  their 
midst. 


THE    RIVALS.  93 

"  Oh,  Jovial !  I  am  looking  for  poor  Xora !  Have  you  seen 
anything  of  her  ? "  asked  Hannah    anxiously. 

"  She  was  here  a-sittin'  by  dat  fire,  not  half  an  hour  ago.  And 
I  lef  her  to  go  and  fetch  my  ole  'oman  to  get  somefin  hot,  and 
when  I  come  back,  jes'  dis  wery  minute,  she's  gone !  " 

"  Where,  where  did  she  go  ? "  asked  Hannah,  clasping  her 
hands  in  the  agony  of  her  anxiety. 

"  Out  o'  doors,  I  see  by  her  little  foot-prints  a-leading  away 
from  de  door;  dough  I  'spects  dey's  filled  up  by  dis  time.  I 
was  jes'  agwine  out  to  look  for  her." 

"  Oh,  bless  you.  Jovial !  " 

"  Which  way  do  you  think  she  went,  Miss  Hannah  ? " 

"  Home  again,  I  suppose,  poor  child." 

"  It's  a  wonder  you  hadn't  met  her." 

"  The  night  is  so  dark,  and  then  you  know  there  is  more  than 
one  path  leading  from  Brudenell  down  into  the  valley.  And 
if  she  went  that  way  she  took  a  different  path  from  the  one 
I  came  by." 

"  I  go  look  for  her  now !  I  won't  lose  no  more  time  talkin','* 
and  the  old  man  clapped  his  hat  upon  his  head  and  picked  up 
his  lantern. 

"  I  will  go  with  you.  Jovial,"  said  Xora's  sister. 

"  [N'o,  Miss  Hannah,  don't  you  'tempt  it;  tain't  no  night  for 
no  'oman  to  be  out." 

"  And  dat  a  fact,  Miss  Hannah !  don't  you  go !  I  can't  'mit 
of  it !  You  stay  here  long  o'  me  till  my  ole  man  fines  her  and 
trings  her  back  here;  an'  I'll  have  a  bit  of  supper  ready,  an* 
you'll  both  stop  wid  us  all  night,"  suggested  Dinah. 

"  I  thank  you  both,  but  I  cannot  keep  still  while  Xora  is 
in  danger !  I  must  help  in  the  search  for  her,"  insisted  Hannah, 
with  the  obstinacy  of  a  loving  heart,  as  she  wrapped  her  shawl 
more  '^losely  around  her  shoulders  and  followed  the  old  man. 
out  in  the  midnight  storm.  It  was  still  snowing  very  fast.  Her 
guide  went  a  step  in  front  with  the  lantern,  throwing  a  feeble 
light  upon  the  soft  white  path  that  seemed  to  sink  under  their 
feet  as  they  walked.  The  old  man  peered  about  on  the  right 
and  left  and  straight  before  him,  so  as  to  miss  no  object  in  his 
way  that  might  be  Xora. 

"  Jovial,"  said  Hannah,  as  they  crept  along,  "  is  it  true  about 
the  young  foreign  lady  that  arrived  here  last  night  and  turned 
out  to  be  the  wife  of  'Mr.  Herman  ? " 

"All  as  true  as  gospel,  honey,"  replied  the  old  man,  who, 


94  isinrAEL ;  oe,  it^  the  depths. 

in  his  love  of  gossip,  immediately  related  to  Hannali  all  the 
particulars  of  the  arrival  of  Lady  Hurstmonceux  and  the  flight 
of  Herman  Brudenell.  "  Seems  like  he  run  away  at  the  sight 
•of  his  wife,  honey;  and  'pears  like  she  thinks  so  too,  'cause 
she's  taken  of  it  sorely  to  heart,  scarce'  holdin'  up  her  head, 
since.  And  it  is  a  pity  for  her,  too,  poor  young  thing ;  for  she's 
a  sweet  perty  young  cre'tur',  and  took  Miss  Nora's  part  like  an 
angel  when  de  old  madam  was  a-callin'  of  her  names,  and 
•orderin'  of  her  out'n  de  house." 

"  Calling  her  names !  ordering  her  out  of  the  house !  Did 
Mrs.  Brudenell  dare  to  treat  Nora  Worth  so  ? "  cried  Hannah 
indignantly. 

"  Well,  honey,  she  did  rayther,  that's  a  fact.  Law,  honey, 
you  know  yourself  how  ha'sh  ladies  is  to  poor  young  gals  as  has 
done  wrong.     A  hawk  down  on  a  chicken  aint  nuffin  to  'em !  " 

"  But  my  sister  has  done  no  wrong ;  Nora  Worth  is  as  inno- 
cent as  an  angel,  as  honorable  as  an  empress.  I  can  prove  it, 
and  I  will  prove  it,  let  the  consequences  to  the  Brudenells  be 
what  they  may!  Called  her  ill  names,  did  she?  Very  well! 
whether  my  poor  wronged  child  lives  or  dies  this  bitter  night, 
I  will  clear  her  character  to-morrow,  let  who  will  be  blackened 
instead  of  her !  Ordered  her  out  of  the  house,  did  she  ?  All 
right !  we  will  soon  see  how  long  the  heir  himself  will  be  per- 
mitted to  stop  there !  There's  law  in  the  land,  for  rich  as  well 
as  poor,  I  reckon !  Threatened  her  with  a  constable,  did  she  ? 
Just  so !  I  wonder  how  she  will  feel  when  her  own  son  is 
dragged  off  to  prison !     That  will  take  her  down " 

Hannah's  words  were  suddenly  cut  short,  for  Jovial,  who  was 
going  on  before  her,  fell  sprawling  over  some  object  that  lay 
directly  across  the  path,  and  the  lantern  rolled  down  the  hill. 

"  What  is  the  matter.  Jovial  ? "  she  inquired. 

"Honey,  I  done  fell — fell  over  somefin'  or  oder;  it  is — ^law, 
yes " 

"What,  Jovial?" 

"It's  a  'oman,  honey;  feels  like  Miss  Nora." 

In  an  instant  Hannah  was  down  on  her  knees  beside  the 
fallen  figure,  clearing  away  the  snow  that  covered  it. 

"It  is  Nora,"  she  said,  trying  to  lift  the  insensible  body;  but 
it  was  a  cold,  damp,  heavy  weight,  deeply  bedded  in  the  snow, 
and  resisted  all  her  efforts. 

"  Oh,  Jovial,  I  am  afraid  she  is  dead!  and  I  caflnot  get  her 
up  I    You  come  and  try !  "  wept  Hannah. 


THE    MAETTES    OF   LOVE.  95 

"Well,  tliere  now,  I  knowed  it — I  jest  did;  I  knowed  if 
she  was  turned  out  in  de  snow-storm  this  night  she'd  freeze  to 
death !  Ole  mist' ess  aint  no  better  dan  a  she-bearess !  "  grumbled 
the  old  man,  as  he  rooted  his  arms  under  the  cold  dead  weight 
of  the  unfortunate  girl,  and  with  much  tugging  succeeded  in 
raising  her. 

"  Now,  den,  Miss  Hannah,  hadn't  I  better  tote  her  back  to 
my  ole  'oman  ?  " 

"  No ;  we  are  much  nearer  the  hut  than  the  hall,  and  even 
if  it  were  not  so,  I  would  not  have  her  taken  back  there." 

They  were  in  fact  going  up  the  path  leading  to  the  hut  on 
the  top  of  the  hill.  So,  by  dint  of  much  lugging  and  tugging, 
and  many  breathless  pauses  to  rest,  the  old  man  succeeded  in 
bearing  his  lifeless  burden  to  the  hut. 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE  MARTYRS  OF  LOVE. 

She  woke  at  length,  but  not  as  sleepers  wake, 
Rather  the  dead,  for  life  seemed  something  new, 

A  strange  sensation  which  she  must  partake 
Perforce,  since  whatsoever  met  her  view 

Struck  not  her  memory;  though  a  heavy  ache 
Lay  at  her  heart,  whose  earliest  beat,  still  true, 

Brought  back  the  sense  of  pain,  without  the  cause, 

For,  for  a  time  the  furies  made  a  pause. 

— Byron. 

So  Nora's  lifeless  form  was  laid  upon  the  bed.  Old  Mrs. 
Jones,  who  had  fallen  asleep  in  her  chair,  was  aroused  by  the 
disturbance,  and  stumbled  up  only  half  awake  to  see  what  was 
the  matter,  and  to  offer  her  assistance. 

Old  Jovial  had  modestly  retired  to  the  chimney  comer,  leav- 
ing the  poor  girl  to  the  personal  attention  of  her  sister. 

Hannah  had  thrown  off  her  shawl  and  bonnet,  and  was  hastily 
divesting  Nora  of  her  wet  garments,  when  the  old  nurse  ap- 
peared at  her  side. 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Jones,  is  she  dead  ? "  cried  the  elder  sister. 

"No,"  replied  the  oracle,  putting  her  warm  hand  upon  the 
heart  of  the  patient,  "  only  in  a  dead  faint  and  chilled  to  the 
marrow  of  her  bones,  poor  heart !  Whatever  made  her  run  out 
so  in  this  storm  ?  Where  did  you  find  her  ?  had  she  fallen  down 
in  a  fit  ?    What  was  the  cause  on  it  ? "  she  went  on  to  hurry 


96  ishmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

question  upon  question,  with  the  vehemence  of  an  old  gossip 
starving  for  sensation  news. 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Jones,  this  is  no  time  to  talk !  we  must  do  some- 
thing to  bring  her  to  life !  "  wept  Hannah. 

*'  That's  a  fact !  Jovial,  you  good-f or-hothing,  lazy,  lumber- 
ing nigger,  what  are  ye  idling  there  for,  a-toasting  of  your 
crooked  black  shins?  Put  up  the  chunks  and  hang  on  the 
kettle  directly,"  said  the  nurse  with  authority. 

Poor  old  Jovial,  who  was  anxious  to  be  of  service,  waiting 
only  to  be  called  upon,  and  glad  to  be  set  to  work,  sprung  up 
eagerly  to  obey  this  mandate. 

Thanks  to  the  huge  logs  of  wood  used  in  Hannah's  wide 
-chimney,  the  neglected  fire  still  burned  hotly,  and  Jovial  soon 
had  it  in  a  roaring  blaze  around  the  suspended  kettle. 

"  And  now,  Hannah,  you  had  better  get  out  her  dry  clothes 
and  a  thick  blanket,  and  hang  'em  before  the  fire  to  warm. 
And  give  me  some  of  that  wine  and  some  allspice  to  heat," 
continued  Mrs.  Jones. 

The  sister  obeyed,  with  as  much  docility  as  the  slave  had 
done,  and  by  their  united  efforts  the  patient  was  soon  dressed 
in  warm  dry  clothes,  wrapped  in  a  hot,  thick  blanket,  and  tucked 
up  comfortably  in  bed.  But  though  her  form  was  now  limber, 
and  her  pulse  perceptible,  she  had  not  yet  spoken  or  opened  her 
€yes.  It  was  a  half  an  hour  later,  while  Hannah  stood  bathing 
her  temples  with  camphor,  and  Mrs.  Jones  sat  rubbing  her 
hands,  that  Nora  showed  the  first  signs  of  returning  conscious- 
ness, and  these  seemed  attended  with  great  mental  or  bodily 
pain,  it  was  difiicult  to  tell  which,  for  the  stately  head  was 
jerked  back,  the  fair  forehead  corrugated,  and  the  beautiful 
lips  writhen  out  of  shape. 

"  Fetch  me  the  spiced  wine  now,  Hannah,"  said  the  nurse ; 
and  when  it  was  brought  she  administered  it  by  teaspoonfuls. 
It  seemed  to  do  the  patient  good,  for  when  she  had  mechanically 
swallowed  it,  she  sighed  as  with  a  sense  of  relief,  sank  back 
npon  her  pillow  and  closed  her  eyes.  Her  face  had  lost  its  look 
of  agony;  she  seemed  perfectly  at  ease.  In  a  little  while  she 
opened  her  eyes  calmly  and  looked  around.  Hannah  bent  ove* 
her,  murmuring: 

"  Nora,  darling,  how  do  you  feel  ?    Speak  to  me,  my  pet !  " 

"  Stoop  down  to  me,  Hannah !  low,  lower  stiU,  I  want  to 
whisper  to  you." 

Hannah  put  her  ear  to  Nora's  lips. 


tut:  martyrs  of  love.  97 

*'0h,  Hannah,  it  was  all  true!  he  was  married  to  another 
Woman."  And  as  she  gasped  out  these  words  with  a  great  sob, 
her  face  became  convulsed  again  with  agony,  and  she  covered 
it  with  her  hands. 

"  Do  not  take  this  so  much  to  heart,  sweet  sister.  Heaven 
knows  that  you  were  innocent,  and  the  earth  shall  know  it, 
too;  as  for  him,  he  was  a  villain  and  a  hypocrite  not  worth 
a  tear,"  whispered  Hannah. 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  no !  I  am  sure  he  was  not  to  blame.  I  cannot 
tell  you  why,  because  I  know  so  little;  but  I  feel  that  he  was 
faultless,"  murmured  ISTora,  as  the  spasm  passed  off,  leaving  her 
in  that  elysium  of  physical  ease  which  succeeds  great  pain. 

Hannah  was  intensely  disgusted  by  Nora's  misplaced  con- 
fidence; but  she  did  not  contradict  her,  for  she  wished  to  soothe, 
not  to  excite  the  sufferer. 

For  a  few  minutes  Nora  lay  with  her  eyes  closed  and  her 
hands  crossed  upon  her  bosom,  while  her  watchers  stood  in 
silence  beside  her  bed.  Then  springing  up  with  widly  flaring 
eyes  she  seized  her  sister,  crying  out : 

"  Plannah !     Oh,  Hannah !  " 

"What  is  it,  child?"  exclaimed  Hannah,  in  affright. 

"I  do  believe  I'm  dying — and,  oh!  I  hope  I  am." 

"Oh,  no,  ye  aint  a-dying,  nyther;  there's  more  life  than 
death  in  this  'ere;  Lord  forgive  ye,  girl,  fer  bringing  such  a 
grief  upon  your  good  sister,"  said  Mrs.  Jones   grimly. 

"  Oh,  Mi-s.  Jones,  what  is  the  matter  with  her  ?  Has  she  taken 
poison,  do  you  think?  She  has  been  in  a  great  deal  of  trouble 
to-night !  "  cried  Hannah,  in  dismay. 

"  No,  it's  worse  than  pi'sen.  Hannah,  you  send  that  ere  gap- 
ing and  staring  nigger  right  away  directly;  this  aint  no  place, 
no  longer,  for  no  men-folks  to  be  in,  even  s'posin  they  is  nothin' 
but  nigger  cre-turs." 

Hannah  raised  her  eyes  to  the  speaker.  A  look  of  intelligence 
passed  between  the  two  women.  The  old  dame  nodded  her  head 
knowingly,  and  then  Hannah  gently  laid  Nora  back  upon  her 
pillow,  for  she  seemed  at  ease  again  now,  and  went  to  the  old 
man  and  said : 

"Uncle  Jovial,  you  had  better  go  home  now.  Aunt  Dinah 
■will  be  anxious  about  you,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  honey,  I  knows  it,  and  T  was  only  awaitin'  to  see  if  I 
could  be  of  any  more  use,"  replied  the  old  man,  meekly  rising 
to  obey. 


98  ishmael;  or,  ii^  the  depths. 

"  I  thank  you  very  much,  dear  old  Uncle  Jovial,  for  all  your 
goodness  to  us  to-night,  and  I  will  knit  you  a  pair  of  nice  warm 
socks  to  prove  it." 

"  Laws,  child,  I  don't  want  nothing  of  no  thanks,  nor  no  socks 
for  a-doin'  of  a  Christian  man's  duty.  And  now.  Miss  Hannah, 
don't  you  be  cast  down  about  this  here  misfortin';  it's  nothin' 
of  no  fault  of  yours ;  everybody  'spects  you  for  a  well-conducted 
young  'oman;  an'  you  is  no  ways  'countable  for  your  sister's 
mishaps.  Why,  there  was  my  own  Aunt  Dolly's  step-daughter's 
husband's  sister-in-law's  son  as  was  took  up  for  stealin'  of 
eheep.  But  does  anybody  'spect  me  the  less  for  that  ?  No !  and 
no  more  won't  nobody  'spect  you  no  less  for  poor  misfortinit 
Miss  Nora.  Only  I  do  wish  I  had  that  ere  scamp,  whoever  he  is, 
by  the  ha'r  of  his  head !  I'd  give  his  blamed  neck  one  twist  he 
wouldn't  'cover  of  in  a  hurry,"  said  the  old  man,  drawing  him- 
self up  stiffly  as  he  buttoned  his  overcoat. 

"  And  now  good-night,  chile !  I'll  send  my  ole  'oman  over 
early  in  de  mornin',  to  fetch  Miss  Nora  somefin'  nourishin',  an^ 
likewise  to  see  if  she  can  be  of  any  use,"  said  Jovial,  as  he 
took  up  his  hat  to  depart. 

The  snow  had  ceased  to  fall,  the  sky  was  perfectly  clear, 
and  the  stars  were  shining  brightly.  Hannah  felt  glad  of  this 
for  the  old  man's  sake,  as  she  closed  the  door  behind  him. 

But  Nora  demanded  her  instant  attention.  That  sufferer 
was  in  a  paroxysm  of  agony  stronger  than  any  that  had  yet 
preceded  it. 

There  was  a  night  of  extreme  illness,  deadly  peril,  and  fear- 
ful anxiety  in  the  hut. 

But  the  next  morning,  just  as  the  sun  arose  above  the  opposite 
heights  of  Brudenell,  flooding  all  the  cloudless  heavens  and  the 
snow-clad  earth  with  light  and  glory,  a  new  life  also  arose  in 
that  humble  hut  upon  the  hill. 

Hannah  Worth  held  a  new-born  infant  boy  in  her  arms,  and 
her  tears  fell  fast  upon  his  face  like  a  baptism  of  sorrow. 

The  miserable  young  mother  lay  back  upon  her  pillow — death 
impressed  upon  the  sunken  features,  the  ashen  complexion, 
and  the  fixed  eyes. 

"  Oh,  what  a  blessing  if  this  child  could  die !  "  cried  Hannah, 
in  a  piercing  voice  that  reached  even  the  failing  senses  of  the 
dying  girl. 

There  was  an  instant  change.    It  was  like  the  sudden  flaring 


THE   MARTTRS   OF   LOVE.  99 

up  of  an  expiring  light.  Down  came  the  stony  eyes,  melting 
with  tenderness  and  kindling  with  light.  All  the  features  were 
softened  and  illumined. 

Those  who  have  watched  the  dying  are  familiar  with  these 
sudden  re-kindlings  of  life.  She  spoke  in  tones  of  infinite 
sweetness : 

"  Oh,  do  not  say  so,  Hannah !  Do  not  grudge  the  poor  little 
thing  his  life !  Everything  else  has  been  taken  from  him,  Han- 
nah ! — father,  mother,  name,  inheritance,  and  all !  Leave  him 
his  little  life:  it  has  been  dearly  purchased!  Hold  him  down 
to  me,  Hannah ;  I  will  give  him  one  kiss,  if  no  one  ever  kisses 
him  again." 

"  Nora,  my  poor  darling,  you  know  that  I  will  love  your  boy, 
nnd  work  for  him,  and  take  care  of  him,  if  he  lives;  only  I 
thought  it  was  better  if  it  pleased  God  that  he  should  go 
home  to  the  Saviour,"  said  Hannah,  as  she  held  the  infant  down 
to  receive  his  mother's  kiss. 

"  God  love  you,  poor,  poor  baby !  "  said  Nora,  putting  up  her 
feeble  hands,  and  bringing  the  little  face  close  to  her  lips.  "  He 
■will  live,  Hannah !  Oh,  I  prayed  all  through  the  dreadful  night 
that  he  might  live,  and  the  Lord  has  answered  my  prayer," 
she  added,  as  she  resigned  the  child  once  more  to  her  sister's 
care. 

Then  folding  her  hands  over  her  heart,  and  lifting  her  eyes 
towards  heaven  with  a  look  of  sweet  solemnity,  and,  in  a  voice 
so  deep,  bell-like,  and  beautiful  that  it  scarcely  seemed  a  human, 
one,  she  said: 

"  Out  of  the  Depths  have  I  called  to  Thee,  and  Thou  hast 
heard  my  voice." 

And  with  these  sublime  words  upon  her  lips  she  once  more 
dropped  away  into  sleep,  stupor,  or  exhaustion — for  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  define  the  conditions  produced  in  the  dying  by  the 
rising  and  falling  of  the  waves  of  life  when  the  tide  is  ebbing 
away.  The  beautiful  eyes  did  not  close,  but  rolled  themselves 
xip  under  their  lids;  the  sweet  lips  fell  apart,  and  the  pearly 
teeth  grew  dry. 

Old  Mrs.  Jones,  who  had  been  busy  with  a  saucepan  over  the 
fire,  now  approached  the  bedside,  saying: 

"Is  she  'sleep?" 

"  I  do  not  know.  Look  at  her,  and  see  if  she  is,"  replied  the 
weeping  sister. 

"  Well,  I  can't  tell,"  said  the  nurse,  after  a  close  examination. 


100  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

And  neither  could  Hippocrates,  if  he  had  been  there. 

"  Do  you  think  she  can  possibly  live  ? "  sobbed  Hannah. 

"Well — I  hope  so,  honey.  Law,  I've  seen  'em  as  low  as  that 
come  round  again.  Now  lay  the  baby  down,  Hannah  Worth, 
and  come  away  to  the  window;  I  want  to  talk  to  you  without 
the  risk   of  disturbing  her." 

Hannah  deposited  the  baby  by  its  mother's  side  and  followed 
the  nurse. 

"  Now  you  know,  Hannah,  you  must  not  think  as  I'm  a  hard- 
hearted ole  'oman;  but  you  see  I  must  go." 

"  Go !  oh,  no !  don't  leave  Nora  in  her  low  state !  I  have  so 
little  experience  in  these  cases,  you  know.  Stay  with  her  I 
I  will  pay  you  well,  if  I  am  poor." 

"  Child,  it  aint  the  fear  of  losin'  of  the  pay;  I'm  sure  you're 
■welcome  to  all  I've  done  for  you." 

"  Then  do  stay !  It  seems  indeed  that  Providence  himself 
sent  you  to  us  last  night !  What  on  earth  should  we  have 
done  without  you !    It  was  really  the  Lord  that  sent  you  to  us." 

"  'Pears  to  me  it  was  Old  Nick !  I  know  one  thing :  I 
shouldn't  a-come  if  I  had  known  what  an  adventur'  I  was  a-goin* 
to  have,"  mumbled  the  old  woman  to  herself. 

Hannah,  who  had  not  heard  her  words,  spoke  again : 

"You'll  stay?" 

*'Now,  look  here,  Hannah  Worth,  I'm  a  poor  old  lady,  with 
nothing  but  my  character  and  my  profession;  and  if  I  was  to 
stay  here  and  nuss  Nora  Worth,  I  should  jes'  lose  both  on  'em, 
and  sarve  me  right,  too !  What  call  have  I  to  fly  in  the  face  of 
society  ? " 

Hannah  made  no  answer,  but  went  and  reached  a  cracked 
tea-pot  from  the  top-shelf  of  the  dresser,  took  from  it  six  dol- 
lars and  a  half,  which  was  all  her  fortune,  and  came  and  put  it 
in  the  hand  of  the  nurse,  saying: 

"  Here !  take  this  as  your  fee  for  your  last  night's  work  and 
go,  and  never  let  me  see  your  face  again  if  you  can  help  it." 

"  Now,  Hannah  Worth,  don't  you  be  unreasonable — now,  don't 
ye ;  drat  the  money,  child ;  I  can  live  without  it,  I  reckon ;  though 
I  can't  live  without  my  character  and  my  perfession;  here, 
take  it,  child — you  may  want  it  bad  afore  all's  done;  and  I'm 
sure  I  would  stay  and  take  care  of  the  poor  gal  if  I  dared; 
but  now  you  know  yourself,  Hannah,  that  if  I  was  to  do  so, 
I  should  be  a  ruinated  old  'oman;  for  there  aint  a  respectable 
lady  in  the  world  as  would  ever  employ  me  again." 


THE   MARTYRS    OF   LOVE.  10] 

"But  T  tell  you  that  ISTora  is  as  innocent  as  her  own  babe; 
and  her  character  shall  be  cleared  before  the  day  is  out !  "  ex- 
claimed Hannah,  tears  of  rage  and  shame  welling  to  her  eyes. 

"  Yes,  honey,  I  dessay ;  and  when  it's  done  I'll  come  back 
and  nuss  her — for  nothing,  too,"  replied  the  old  woman  dryly, 
as  she  put  on  her  bonnet  and  shawl. 

This  done  she  returned  to  the  side  of  Hannah. 

"  Now,  you  know  I  have  told  you  everything  what  to  do  for 
^ora;  and  by-and-by,  I  suppose,  old  Dinah  will  come,  as  old 
Jovial  promised;  and  maybe  she'll  stay  and  'tend  to  the  gal 
and  the  child;  'twon't  hurt  her,  you  know,  'cause  niggers  aint 
mostly  got  much  character  to  lose.  There,  child,  take  i^p  your 
money;  I  wouldn't  take  it  from  you,  no  more'n  I'd  pick  a 
pocket.    Good-by." 

Hannah  would  have  thrown  the  money  after  the  dame  as  she 
left  the  hut,  but  that  Nora's  dulcet  tones  recalled  her: 

"  Hannah,  don't !  " 

She  hurried  to  the  patient's  bedside ;  there  was  another  rising 
of  the  waves  of  life;  Nora's  face,  so  dark  and  rigid  a  moment 
before,  was  now  again  soft  and  luminous. 

"What  is  it,  sister?"  inquired  Hannah,  bending  over  her. 

"Don't  be  angry  with  her,  dear;  she  did  all  she  could  for  us, 
you  know,  without  injuring  herself — and  we  had  no  right  to 
expect  that." 

"  But — her  cruel  words !  " 

"  Dear  Hannah,  never  mind ;  when  you  are  hurt  by  such,  re- 
member our  Saviour;  think  of  the  indignities  that  were  heaped 
upon  the  Son  of  God;  and  how  meekly  he  bore  them,  and  how 
freely  he  forgave  them." 

"  Nora,  dear,  you  do  not  talk  like  yourself." 

"Because  I  am  dying,  Hannah.  My  boy  came  in  with  the 
rising  sun,  and  I  shall  go  out  with  its  setting." 

"No,  no,  my  darling — you  are  much  better  than  you  were. 
I  do  not  see  why  you  should  die !  "  wept  Hannah. 

"  But  I  do ;  I  am  not  better,  Hannah — I  have  only  floated 
back.  1  am  always  floating  backward  and  forward,  towards 
life  and  towards  death;  only  every  time  I  float  towards  death 
I  go  farther  away,  and  I  shall  float  out  with  the  day." 

Hannah  was  too  much  moved  to  trust  herself  to  speak. 

"  Sister,"  said  Nora,  in  a  fainter  voice,  "  I  have  one  last 
wish." 

**  What  is  it,  my  own  darling? " 


102  ishmael;  oe,  i]sr  the  depths. 

"  To  see  poor,  poor  Herman  once  more  before  I  die." 

"  To  forgive  him !  Yes,  I  suppose  that  will  be  right,  though 
very  hard,"  sighed  the  elder  girl. 

"  No,  not  to  forgive  him,  Hannah — for  he  has  never  willingly 
injured  me,  poor  boy;  but  to  lay  my  hand  upon  his  head,  and 
look  into  his  eyes,  and  assure  him  with  my  dying  breath  that  I 
know  he  was  not  to  blame;  for  I  do  know  it,  Hannah." 

"  Oh,  Nora,  what  faith ! "  cried  the  sister. 

The  dying  girl,  who,  to  use  her  own  words,  was  floating  away 
again,  scarcely  heard  this  exclamation,  for  she  murmured  on  in 
a  lower  tone,  like  the  receding  voice  of  the  wind: 

"  For  if  I  do  not  have  a  chance  of  saying  this  to  him,  Han- 
nah— if  he  is  left  to  suppose  I  went  down  to  the  grave  believing 
Lim  to  be  treacherous — it  will  utterly  break  his  heart,  Hannah; 
for  I  know  him,  poor  fellow — he  is  as  sensitive  as — as — 
any "    She  was  gone  again  out  of  reach. 

Hannah  watched  the  change  that  slowly  grew  over  her  beauti- 
ful face :  saw  the  grayness  of  death  creep  over  it — saw  its 
muscles  stiffen  into  stone — saw  the  lovely  eyeballs  roll  upward 
out  of  sight — and  the  sweet  lips  drawn  away  from  the  glistening 
teeth. 

While  she  thus  watched  she  heard  a  sound  behind  her.  She 
turned  in  time  to  see  the  door  pushed  open,  and  Herman 
Brudenell — pale,  wild,  haggard,  with  matted  ]iair,  and  blood- 
shot eyes,  and  shuddering  frame — totter  into  the  room. 


CHAPTEE  XII. 
herivian's  story. 

Thus  lived — thns  died  she;  never  more  on  her 
Shall  sorrow  light  or  shame.     She  was  not  made, 

Through  years  of  moons,  the  inner  weight  to  bear, 
Which  colder  hearts  endnre  'til  they  are  laid 

By  age  in  earth:  her  days  and  pleasures  were 
Brief  but  delightful— such  as  had  not  stayed 

Long  with  her  destiny;  but  she  sleeps  well 

By  the  sea-shore,  whereon  she  loved  to  dwell. 

— Byron. 

Hannah  arose,  met  the  intruder,  took  his  hand,  led  him  to 
^he  bed  of  death  and  silently  pointed  to  the  ghastly  form  of 
Nora. 

He  gazed  with  horror  on  the  sunken  features,  gray  com- 


Herman's  stoet.  103 

plexlon,  -up-turned  eyes,  and  parted  lips  of  the  once  beautiful 
girl. 

"  Hannah,  how  is  this — dying  ?  "  he  whispered  huskily. 

"  Dying,"  replied  the  woman    solemnly. 

"  So  best,"  he  whispered,  in  a  choking  voice. 

"  So  best,"  she  echoed,  as  she  drew  away  to  the  distant 
window.  "  So  best,  as  death  is  better  than  dishonor.  But 
you!  Oh,  you  villain!  oh,  you  heartless,  shameless  villain! 
to  pass  yourself  off  for  a  single  man  and  win  her  love  and  de- 
ceive her  with  a  false  marriage!" 

"  Hannah !  hear  me !  "  cried  the  young  man,  in  a  voice  of 
anguish. 

"Dog!  ask  the  judge  and  juiy  to  hear  you  when  you  are 
brought  to  trial  for  your  crime !  For  do  you  think  that  I  am 
a-going  to  let  that  girl  go  down  to  her  grave  in  undeserved 
reproach  ?  ls[o,  you  wretch !  not  to  save  from  ruin  you  and  your 
fine  sisters  and  high  mother,  and  all  your  proud,  shameful 
race !  No,  you  devil !  if  there  is  law  in  the  land,  you  shall  be 
dragged  to  jail  like  a  thief  and  exposed  in  court  to  answer  for 
your  bigamy ;  and  all  the  world  shall  hear  that  you  are  a  feloa 
and  she  an  honest  girl  who  thought  herself  your  wife  when  she 
gave  you  her  love !  " 

"  Hannah,  Hannah,  prosecute,  expose  me  if  you  like !  I  am 
so  miserable  that  I  care  not  what  becomes  of  me  or  mine.  The 
earth  is  crumbling  under  my  feet!  do  you  think  I  care  for 
trifles?  Denounce,  but  hear  me!  Heaven  knows  I  did  not  will< 
ingly  deceive  poor  Nora!  I  Avas  myself  deceived!  If  she  be- 
lieved herself  to  be  my  wife,  I  as  fully  believed  myself  to  be 
her  husband." 

"  You  lie !  "  exclaimed  this  rude  child  of  nature,  who  knew  no 
fine  word  for  falsehood. 

"  Oh,  it  is  natural  you  should  rail  at  me !  But,  Hannah,  my 
sharp,  sharp  grief  makes  me  insensible  to  mere  stinging  words. 
Yet  if  you  would  let  me,  I  could  tell  you  the  combination  of 
circumstances  that  deceived  us  both!"  replied  Herman,  with 
the  patience  of  one  who,  having  suffered  the  extreme  power  of 
torture,  could  feel  no  new  wound. 

"Tell  me,  then!"  snapped  Hannah  harshly  and  incred- 
ulously. 

He  leaned  against  the  window-frame  and  whispered: 

"  I  shall  not  survive  Nora  long ;  I  feel  that  I  shall  not ;  I  have 
not  taken  food  or  drink,  or  rested  under  a  roof,  since  I  heard 


104  ISHMAEL  ;    OK,  LN   THE   DEPTHS. 

that  news,  Hannah.  Well,  to  explain — I  was  very  young  when 
I  first  met  her " 

"  Met  who  ?  "  savagely  demanded  Hannah. 

"My  first  wife.  She  was  the  only  child  and  heiress  of  a 
retired.  Jew-tradesman.  Her  beauty  fascinated  an  imbecile  old 
nobleman,  who,  having  insulted  the  daughter  with  '  liberal ' 
proposals,  that  were  scornfully  rejected,  tempted  the  father 
with  '  honorable '  ones,  which  were  eagerly  accepted.  The  old 
Jev.',  in  his  ambition  to  become  father-in-law  to  the  old  earl, 
forgot  his  religious  prejudices  and  coaxed  his  daughter  to  sacri- 
fice herself.  And  thus  Berenice  D'Israeli  became  Countess  of 
Hurstmonceux.  The  old  peer  survived  his  foolish  marriage  but 
six  months,  and  died  leaving  his  vadow  penniless,  his  debts 
having  swamped  even  her  marriage  portion.  His  entailed 
estates  went  to  the  heir-at-law,  a  distant  relation " 

"  What  in  the  name  of  Heaven  do  you  think  I  care  for  your 
countesses !  I  want  to  know  what  excuse  you  can  give  for  youjr 
base  deception  of  my  sister,"  fiercely  inteiTupted  Hannah. 

"  I  am  coming  to  that.  It  was  in  the  second  year  of  the 
Countess  Hurstmonceux's  widowhood  that  I  met  her  at 
Brighton.  Oh,  Hannah,  it  is  not  in  vanity;  but  in  palliation 
of  my  offense  that  I  tell  you  she  loved  me  first.  And  when 
a  widow  loves  a  single  man,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  she  will 
make  him  marry  her.  She  hunted  me  down,  ran  me  to 
earth " 

"  Oh,  you  wretch !  to  say  such  things  of  a  lady !  "  exclaimed 
the  woman,  with  indignation. 

"  It  is  true,  Hannah,  and  in  this  awful  hour,  with  that  ghastly 
form  before  me,  truth  and  not  false  delicacy  must  prevail.  I 
say  then  that  the  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux  hunted  me  down, 
and  run  me  to  earth,  but  all  in  such  feminine  fashion  that  I 
scarcely  knew  I  was  hunted.  I  was  flattered  by  her  preference, 
grateful  for  her  kindness  and  proud  of  the  prospect  of  carrying 
off  from  all  competitors  the  most  beautiful  among  the  Brighton, 
belles;  but  all  this  would  not  have  tempted  me  to  offer  her  my 
hand,  for  I  did  not  \ove  her,  Hannah." 

"  What  did  tempt  you  then  ?  "  inquired  the  woman. 

"Pity;  I  saw  that  she  loved  me  passionately,  and — I  pro- 
posed to  her." 

"  Coxcomb !  do  you  think  she  would  have  broken  her  heart 
if  you  hadn't?" 

"  Yes,  Hannah,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  did  think  so  then ;  I  was 


HEiiMANS    STOEY.  105 

but  a  boy,  you  know;  and  I  had  that  fatal  weakness  of  which 
I  told  you — that  which  dreaded  to  inflict  pain  and  delighted 
to  impart  joy.  So  I  asked  her  to  marry  me.  But  the  penniless 
Countess  of  Hurstmonceux  was  the  sole  heir^s  of  the  wealthy 
old  Jew,  Jacob  D'Israeli.  And  he  had  set  his  mind  upon  her 
marrying  a  gouty  marquis,  and  thus  taking  one  step  higher 
in  the  peerage;  so  of  course  he  would  not  listen  to  my  pro- 
posal, and  he  threatened  to  disinherit  his  daughter  if  she 
married  me.  Then  we  did  what  so  many  others  in  similar  cir- 
cumstances do — we  married  privately.  Soon  after  this  I  was 
summoned  home  to  take  possession  of  my  estates.  So  I  left 
England ;  but  not  until  I  had  discovered  the  utter  unworthiness 
of  the  siren  whom  I  was  so  weak  as  to  make  my  wife.  I  did 
not  reproach  the  woman,  but  when  I  sailed  from  Liverpool 
it  was  with  the  resolution  never  to  return." 

"  Well,  sir !  even  supposing  you  were  drawn  into  a  foolish 
marriage  with  an  artful  woman,  and  had  a  good  excuse  for 
deserting  her,  was  that  any  reason  why  you  should  have  com- 
mitted the  crime  of  marrying  Nora  ?  "  cried  the  woman  fiercely. 

*^  Hannah,  it  was  not  until  after  I  had  read  an  account  of  a 
railway  collision  in  which  it  was  stated  that  the  Countess  of 
Hurstmonceux  was  among  the  killed  that  I  proposed  for  ISTora. 
Oh,  Hannah,  as  the  Lord  in  heaven  hears  me,  I  believed  my- 
self to  be  a  free,  single  man,  a  widower,  when  1  married  JSToral 
My  only  fault  was  too  great  haste.  I  believed  Nora  to  be  my 
lawful  wife  until  the  unexpected  arrival  of  the  Countess  of 
Hurstmonceux,  who  had  been  falsely  reported  among  the 
killed." 

"  If  this  is  so,"  said  Hannah,  beginning  to  relent,  "  perhaps 
after  all  you  are  more  to  be  pitied  than  blamed." 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you,  Hannah,  for  saying  that !  Bvit  tell 
me,  does  she  believe  that  I  willfvUy  deceived  her?  Yet  why 
should  I  ask?  She  must  think  so!  appearances  are  so  strong 
against  me,"  he  sadly  reflected. 

"But  she  does  not  believe  it;  her  last  prayer  was  that  she 
might  see  you  once  more  before  she  died,  to  tell  you  that  she 
knew  you  were  not  to  blame,"  wept  Hannah. 

"  Bless  her !  bless  her !  "  exclaime«d  the  young  man. 

Hannah,  whose  eyes  had  never,  during  this  interview,  left 
the  face  of  Nora,  now  murmured : 

"  She  is  reviving  again ;  will  you  see  her  now  ? " 

Herman  humbly  bowed  his  head  and  both  approached  the  bed. 


106  isioiael;  oe,  m  the  depths. 

That  power — what  is  it? — awe? — that  power  which  subdues 
the  wildest  passions  in  the  presence  of  death,  calmed  the  grief 
of  Herman  as  he  stood  over  Nora. 

She  was  too  far  gone  for  any  strong  human  emotion ;  but  her 
pale,  rigid  face  softened  and  brightened  as  she  recognized  him, 
and  she  tried  to  extend  her  hand  towards  him. 

He  saw  and  gently  took  it,  and  stooped  low  to  hear  the  sacred 
words  her  dying  lips  were  ti-ying  to  pronounce. 

"  Poor,  poor  boy ;  don't  grieve  so  bitterly ;  it  wasn't  your 
fault,"  she  murmured. 

"  Oh,  Nora,  your  gentle  spirit  may  forgive  me,  but  I  never 
can  forgive  myself  for  the  reckless  haste  that  has  wrought 
all  this  ruin !  "  groaned  Herman,  sinking  on  his  knees  and 
burying  his  face  on  the  counterpane,  overwhelmed  by  grief 
and  remorse  for  the  great,  unintentional  wrong  he  had  done; 
and  by  the  impossibility  of  explaining  the  cause  of  his  fatal 
mistake  to  this  poor  girl  whose  minutes  were  now  numbered. 

Softly  and  tremblingly  the  dying  hand  arose,  fluttered  a 
moment  like  a  white  dove,  and  then  dropped  in  blessing  on  his 
head. 

"  May  the  Lord  give  the  peace  that  he  only  can  bestow ; 
may  the  Lord  pity  you,  comfort  you,  bless  you  and  save  you 
forever,  Herman,  poor  Herman !  " 

A  few  minutes  longer  her  hand  rested  on  his  head,  and  then 
she  removed  it  and  murmured: 

"  Now  leave  me  for  a  little  while ;  I  wish  to  speak  to  my 
sister." 

Herman  arose  and  went  out  of  the  hut,  where  he  gave  way 
to  the  pent-up  storm  of  grief  that  could  not  be  vented  by  the 
awful  bed  of  death. 

Nora  then  beckoned  Hannah,  who  approached  and  stooped 
low  to  catch  her  words. 

"  Sister,  you  would  not  refuse  to  grant  my  dying  prayers, 
would  you  ? " 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  Nora !  "  wept  the  woman. 

"  Then  promise  me  to  forgive  poor  Hennan  the  wrong  that 
he  has  done  us ;  he  did  not  mean  to  do  it,  Hannah." 

"I  know  he  did  not,  love;  he  explained  it  all  to  me.  The 
first  wife  was  a  bad  woman  who  took  him  in.  He  thought  she 
had  been  killed  in  a  railway  collision,  when  he  married  you, 
and  he  never  foiind  out  his  mistake  until  she  followed  him 
homo." 


HEEMAN'S    STORY.  107 

"I  knew  there  was  something  of  that  sort;  but  I  did  not 
know  what.  iSTow,  Hannah,  promise  me  not  to  breathe  a  word 
to  any  human  being  of  his  second  marriage  with  me ;  it  would 
ruin  him,  you  know,  Hannah ;  for  no  one  would  believe  but  that 
he  knew  his  first  wife  was  living  all  the  time.  Will  you  prom- 
ise me  this,  Hannah  ?  " 

Even  though  she  spoke  with  great  difficulty,  Hannah  did  not 
answer  until  she  repeated  the  question. 

Then  with  a  sob  and  a  gulp  the  elder  sister  said : 

"  Keep  silence,  and  let  people  reproach  your  memory,  Nora  ? 
How  can  I  do  that  ?  " 

"  Can  reproach  reach  me — there  ?  "  she  asked,  raising  her 
hand  towards  heaven. 

"But  your  child,  Nora;  for  his  sake  his  mother's  memory 
should  be  vindicated !  " 

"  At  the  expense  of  making  his  father  out  a  felon  ?  No, 
Hannah,  no;  people  will  soon  forget  he  ever  had  a  mother. 
He  will  only  be  known  as  Hannah  Worth's  nephew,  and  she  is 
everywhere  respected.     Promise  me,  Hannah." 

"  Nora,  I  dare  not." 

■'Sister,  I  am  dying;  you  cannot  refuse  the  prayer  of  the 
dying." 

Hannah  was  silent. 

"  Promise  me !  promise  me !  promise  me !  while  my  ears  can 
yet  take  in  your  voice !  "  Nora's  words  fell  fainter  and  fainter ; 
she  was  failing  fast. 

"  Oh,  Heaven,  I  promise  you,  Nora — the  Lord  forgive  me 
for  it !  "  wept  Hannah. 

"  The  Lord  bless  you  for  it,  Hannah."  Her  voice  sunk  into 
murmurs  and  the  cold  shades  of  death  crept  over  her  face 
again ;  but  rallying  her  fast  failing  strength  she  gasped : 

"  My  boy,  quick !     Oh,  quick,  Hannah !  " 

Hannah  lifted  the  babe  from  his  nest  and  held  him  low  to 
meet  his  mother's  last  kiss. 

"  There,  now,  lay  him  on  my  arm,  Hannah,  close  to  my  left 
side,  and  draw  my  hand  over  him;  I  would  feel  him  near  me 
to  the  very  last." 

With  trembling  fingers  the  poor  woman  obeyed. 

And  the  dying  mother  held  her  child  to  her  heart,  and 
raised  her  glazing  eyes  full  of  the  agony  of  human  love  to 
Heaven,  and  prayed: 

"0  pitiful  Lord,  look  down   in  mercy   on  this  poor,  pool 


108  ishmael;  oe,  in  the  depths. 

babe !  Take  bim  tinder  tby  care !  "  And  with  this  prayer  she 
Bank  into  insensibility. 

Hannah  flew  to  the  door  and  beckoned  Herman.  He  came  in, 
the  living  image  of  despair.  And  both  went  and  stood  by  the 
bed.  They  dared  not  break  the  sacred  spell  by  speech.  They 
gazed  upon  her  in  silent  awe. 

Her  face  was  gray  and  rigid;  her  eyes  were  still  and  stony; 
her  breath  and  pulse  were  stopped.  Was  she  gone?  No,  for 
suddenly  upon  that  face  of  death  a  great  light  dawned,  irradi- 
ating it  with  angelic  beauty  and  glory;  and  once  more  with 
awful  solemnity  deep  bell-like  tones  tolled  forth  the  notes, 

'  Out  of  the  depths  have  T  called  to  Thee 
And  Thou  hast  heard  my  voice." 

And  with  these  holy  words  upon  her  lips  the  gentle  spirit 
of  Nora  Worth,  ruined  maiden  but  innocent  mother,  winged 
its  way  to  heaven. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  FLIGHT  OP  HERMAN.  ■ 

Tread  softly — bow  the  head — 
In  reverent  silence  bow; 
There's  one  in  that  poiir  shed, 
One  by  that  humVile  bed, 
Greater  than  thou ! 

Oh,  change!    Stupendous  change! 
Fled  the  immortal  one! 
A  moment  here,  so  low. 
So  agonized,  and  now — 
Beyond  the  sun! 

— Caroline  Bowles, 

For  some  time  Hannah  Worth  and  Herman  Brudenell  re- 
mained standing  by  the  bedside,  and  gazing  in  awful  silence 
upon  the  beautiful  clay  extended  before  them,  upon  which 
the  spirit  in  parting  had  left  the  impress  of  its  last  earthly 
smile ! 

Then  the  bitter  grief  of  the  bereaved  woman  burst  through. 
all  outward  restraints,  and  she  threw  herself  upon  the  bed 
and  clasped  the  dead  body  of  her  sister  to  her  breast,  and  broke 
into  a  tempest  of  tears  and  sobs  and  lamentations. 

"  Oh,  ISTora !  my  darling !  are  you  really  dead  and  gone  from 
me  forever?    Shall  I  never  hear  the  sound  of  your  light  steg 


THE   FLIGHT    OF   HERMAlSr.  109 

coming  in,  nor  meet  the  beamings  of  your  soft  eyes,  nor  feel 
your  warm  arms  around  my  neck,  nor  listen  to  your  coaxing 
voice,  pleading  for  some  little  indulgence  which  half  the  time 
I  refused  you? 

"  How  could  I  have  refused  you,  my  darling,  anything,  hard- 
hearted that  I  was!  Ah!  how  little  did  I  think  how  soon  you 
would  be  taken  from  me,  and  I  should  never  be  able  to  give 
you  anything  more !  Oh,  Nora,  come  back  to  me,  and  I  will  give 
you  everything  I  have — yes,  my  eyes,  and  my  life,  and  my  soul, 
if  they  could  bring  you  back  and  make  you  happy ! 

"  My  beautiful  darling,  you  were  the  light  of  my  eyes  and  the 
pulse  of  my  heart  and  the  joy  of  my  life!  You  were  all  that  I 
had  in  the  world !  my  little  sister  and  my  daughter  and  my 
baby,  all  in  one !  How  could  you  die  and  leave  me  all  alone  in 
the  world,  for  the  love  of  a  man?  me  who  loves  you  more 
than  all  the  men  on  the  earth  could  love ! 

"  Nora,  I  shall  look  up  from  my  loom  and  see  your  little 
wheel  standing  still — and  where  the  spinner?  I  shall  sit  down 
to  my  solitary  meals  and  see  your  vacant  chair — and  v,'here 
my  companion?  I  shall  wake  in  the  dark  night  and  stretch 
out  my  arms  to  your  empty  place  beside  me — and  vv'here  my 
warm  loving  sister?  In  the  grave!  in  the  cold,  dark,  still 
grave ! 

"  Oh,  Heaven !  Heaven !  how  can  I  bear  it  ? — I,  all  day  in  the 
lonely  house!  all  night  in  the  lonely  bed!  all  my  life  in  the 
lonely  world!  the  black,  freezing,  desolate  world!  and  she  in 
her  grave !  I  cannot  bear  it !  Oh,  no,  I  cannot  bear  it !  Angels 
in  heaven,  you  know  that  I  cannot!  Speak  to  the  Lord,  and 
ask  him  to  take  me! 

"  Lord,  Lord,  please  to  take  me  along  with  my  child.  We  were 
but  two !  two  orphan  sisters !  I  have  grown  gray  in  taking 
care  of  her !  She  cannot  do  without  me,  nor  I  without  her ! 
We  were  but  two!  Why  should  one  be  taken  and  the  otlier 
left?  It  is  not  fair.  Lord!  I  say  it  is  not  fair!"  raved  the 
mourner,  in  that  blind  and  passionate  abandonment  of  grie/ 
■which  is  sura  at  its  climax  to  reach  frenzy,  and  break  into  open 
rebellion  again?t  Omnipotent  Power. 

And  it  is  weH  for  us  that  the  Father  is  more  merciful  thar 
our  tenderest  thoughts,  for  he  pardons  the  rebel  and  heals  bi\ 
■wounds. 

The  sorrow  of  the  young  m.an,  deepened  by  remorse,  was  too 
profound  for  such  outward  vent.    He  leaned  against  the  bed- 


110  ishmael;  oe,  iisr  the  depths. 

post,  seemingly  colder,  paler,  and  more  lifeless  tlian  the  dead; 
body  before  him. 

At  length  the  tempest  of  Hannah's  grief  raged  itself  into 
temporary  rest.  She  arose,  composed  the  form  of  her  sister, 
and  turned  and  laid  her  hand  upon  the  shoulder  of  Herman, 
saying    calmly : 

"  It  is  all  over.  Go,  young  gentleman,  and  wrestle  with 
your  sorrow  and  your  remorse,  as  you  may.  Such  wrestlings 
will  be  the  only  punishment  your  rashness  will  receive  in  this 
world !  Be  free  of  dread  from  me.  She  left  you  her  forgiveness 
as  a  legacy,  and  you  are  sacred  from  my  pursuit.  Go,  and 
leave  me  with  my  dead." 

Herman  dropped  upon  his  knees  beside  the  bed  of  death, 
took  the  cold  hand  of  Nora  between  his  own,  and  bowed  his 
head  upon  it  for  a  little  while  in  penitential  homage,  and  then 
arose  and  silently  left  the  hut. 

After  he  had  gone,  Hannah  remained  for  a  few  minutes 
standing  where  he  had  left  her,  gazing  in  silent  anguish  upon 
the  dark  eyes  of  ISTora,  now  glazed  in  death,  and  then,  with 
reverential  tenderness,  she  pressed  down  the  white  lids,  closing 
them  until  the  light  of  the  resurrection  morning  should  open, 
them  again. 

While  engaged  in  this  holy  duty,  Hannah  was  interrupted 
by  the  re-entrance   of  Herman. 

He  came  in  tottering,  as  if  under  the  influence  of  intoxica- 
tion; but  we  all  know  that  excessive  sorrow  takes  away  the 
strength  and  senses  as  surely  as  intoxication  does.  There  is 
such  a  state  as  being  drunken  with  grief  when  we  have  drained 
the  bitter  cup  dry! 

"  Hannah,"  he  faltered,  "  there  are  some  things  which  should 
be  remembered  even  in  this  awful  hour." 

The  sorrowing  woman,  her  fingers  still  softly  pressing  down. 
her  sister's  eyelids,  looked  up  in  mute  inquiry. 

"Your  necessities  and — Nora's  child  must  be  provided  for. 
Will  you  give  me  some  writing  materials  ? "  And  the  speaker 
dropped,  as  if  totally  prostrated,  into  a  chair  by  the  table. 

With  some  difficulty  Hannah  sought  and  found  an  old  ink- 
stand, a  stumpy  pen,  and  a  scrap  of  paper.  It  was  the  best  sha 
could  do.  Stationery  was  scarce  in  the  poor  hut.  She  laid  them. 
on  the  table  before  Herman.  And  with  a  trembling  hand  he 
wrote  out  a  check  upon  the  local  bank  and  put  it  in  her  hand, 
saying : 


THE   FLIGHT    OF   HERMAN.  Ill 

"  This  sum  will  provide  for  the  boy,  and  set  you  and  Gray 
up  in  some  little  business.  You  had  better  marry  and  go  to 
the  West,  taking  the  child  with  you.  Be  a  mother  to  the  orphan, 
Hannah,  for  he  will  never  know  another  parent.  And  now  shake 
hands  and  say  good-by,  for  we  shall  never  meet  again  in  this 
world." 

Too  thoroughly  bewildered  with  grief  to  comprehend  the 
purport  of  his  words  and  acts,  Hannah  mechanically  received 
the  check  and  returned  the  pressure  of  the  hand  with  which  it 
-was  given. 

And  the  next  instant  the  miserable  young  man  was  gone 
indeed. 

Hannah  dropped  the  paper  upon  the  table ;  she  did  not  in  the 
least  suspect  that  that  little  strip  of  soiled  foolscap  represented 
the  sum  of  five  thousand  dollars,  nor  is  it  likely  that  she 
-would  have  taken  it  had  she  known  what  it  really  was. 
Hannah's  intellects  were  chaotic  with  her  troubles.  She  re- 
turned to  the  bedside  and  was  once  more  absorbed  in  her 
sorrowful  task,  when  she  was  again  interrupted. 

This  time  it  was  by  old  Dinah,  who,  having  no  hand  at 
liberty,  shoved  the  door  open  with  her  foot,  and  entered  the  hut. 

If  "  there  is  but  one  step  between  the  sublime  and  the  ridicu- 
lous," there  is  no  step  at  all  between  the  awful  and  the  absurd, 
which  are  constantly  seen  side  by  side.  Though  such  a  figure 
as  old  Dinah  presented,  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  death- 
chamber,  is  not  often  to  be  found  in  tragic  scenes.  Her 
shoulders  were  bent  beneath  the  burden  of  an  enormous  bundle 
of  bed  clothing,  and  her  arms  were  dragged  down  by  the  weight 
of  two  large  baskets  of  provisions.  She  was  much  too  absorbed 
in  her  own  ostentatious  benevolence  to  look  at  once  towards 
the  bed  and  see  what  had  happened  there.  Probably,  if  she 
glanced  at  the  group  at  all,  she  supposed  that  Hannah  was  only 
bathing  Nora's  head;  for  instead  of  going  forward  or  tender- 
ing any  sympathy  or  assistance,  she  just  let  her  huge  bundle 
drop  from  her  shoulders  and  sat  her  two  baskets  carefully  upon 
the  table,  exclaiming  triumphantly: 

"  Dar !  dar's  soniefin  to  make  de  poor  gal  eomf o'ble  for  a 
mont'  or  more !  Dar,  in  dat  bundle  is  two  thick  blankets  and 
four  pa'r  o'  sheets  an'  pilly  cases,  all  out'n  my  own  precious 
chist;  an'  not  beholden  to  ole  mis'  for  any  on  'em,''  she  added, 
as  she  carefully  untied  the  bundle  and  laid  its  contents,  nicely 
folded,  upon  a  chair. 


112      ishmael;  oe,  en^  the  depths. 

"  An'  dar ! "  she  continued,  beginning  to  unload  the  larger 
basket — "  dar's  a  tukky  an'  two  chickuns  offen  my  own  precious 
roost;  nor  likewise  beholden  to  ole  mis  for  dem  nyder.  An' 
dar!  dar's  sassidges  and  blood  puddin's  out'n  our  own  dear  pig 
as  me  an'  ole  man  Jov'al  ris  an'  kilt  ourselves;  an'  in  course 
no  ways  beholden  to  ole  mis',"  she  concluded,  arranging  these 
edibles  upon  the  table. 

''  An'  dar !  "  she  recommenced  as  she  set  the  smaller  basket 
beside  the  other  things,  "  dar's  a  whole  raft  o'  'serves  an' 
jellies  and  pickles  as  may  be  useful.  An'  dat's  all  for  dis  time ! 
An'  now,  how  is  de  poor  gal,  honey  ?  Is  she  'sleep  ? "  she 
asked,  approaching  the  bed. 

"Yes;  sleeping  her  last  sleep,  Dinah,"  solemnly  replied 
Hannah. 

"  De  Lor'  save  us !  what  does  you  mean  by  dat,  honey  ?  Is 
she  faint?" 

"  Look  at  her,  Dinah,  and  see  for  yourself !  " 

"  Dead !  oh,  Loi*'-a-mercy !  "  cried  the  old  woman,  drawing 
back  appalled  at  the  sight  that  met  her  eyes;  for  to  the  animal 
nature  of  the  pure  African  negro  death  is  very  terrible. 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence  in  the  room,  and  then  the 
voice  of  Hannah  was  heard: 

"  So  you  see  the  comforts  you  robbed  yourself  of  to  bring  to 
'Nora  will  not  be  wanted,  Dinah.  You  must  take  them  back 
again." 

"  Debil  bum  my  poor,  ole,  black  fingers  if  I  teches  of  'em  to 
bring  'em  home  again!  S'posin'  de  poor  dear  gal  is  gone  home? 
aint  you  lef  wid  a  mouf  of  your  own  to  feed,  I  wonder?  Tell 
me  dat? "  sobbed  the  old  woman. 

"  But,  Dinah,  I  feel  as  if  I  should  never  eat  again,  and  cer- 
tainly I  shall  not  care  what  I  eat.  And  that  is  your  Christmas 
turkey,  too,  your  only  one,  for  I  know  that  you  poor  colored 
folks  never  have  more." 

"Who  you  call  poor?  We's  rich  in  grace,  I'd  have  you  to 
know!  'Sides  havin'  of  a  heap  o'  treasure  laid  up  in  heaven, 
I  reckons!  Keep  de  truck,  chile;  for  'deed  you  aint  got  no 
oder  'ternative!  'Taint  Dinah  as  is  a-gwine  to  tote  'em  home 
ag'n.  Lor'  knows  how  dey  a'mos'  broke  my  back  a-fetchin'  of 
'em  over  here.  'Taint  likely  as  I'll  be  such  a  consarned  fool 
as  to  tote  'em  all  de  way  back  ag'in.  So  say  no  more  'bout  it. 
Miss  Hannah!  'Sides  which  how  can  we  talk  o'  sich  wid  de 
sight  o' she  before  our  eyes !    Ah,  Miss  Nora!    Oh,  my  beauty  1 


THE   FLIGHT    OF   HEKMAN.  113 

Oh,  my  pet !  Is  you  really  gone  an'  died  an'  lef '  your  poor  ole 
Aunt  Dinah  behind  as  lubbed  you  like  de  apple  of  her  eye! 
What  did  you  do  it  for,  honey  ?  You  know  your  ole  Aunt  Dinah 
wasn't  a-goin'  to  look  down  on  you  for  nothin'  as  is  happened 
of,"  whined  the  old  woman,  stooping  and  weeping  over  the 
corpse.  Then  she  accidentally  touched  the  sleeping  babe,  and 
started  up  in  dismay,  crying: 

"  What  dis  ?    Oh,  my  good  Lor*  in  heaben,  what  dis  ?  " 

"It  is  Nora's  child,  Dinah.  Didn't  you  know  she  had  one? " 
said  Hannah,  with  a  choking  voice  and  a  crimson  face. 

"  Neber  even  s'picioned !  I  knowed  as  she'd  been  led  astray, 
poor  thin',  an'  as  how  it  was  a-breakin'  of  her  heart  and  a-killin' 
of  her!  Leastways  I  heard  it  up  yonder  at  de  house;  but  I 
didn't  know  nuffin'   'bout  dis  yere !  " 

"But  Uncle  Jovial  did." 

"  Dat  ole  sinner  has  got  eyes  like  gimlets,  dey  bores  into 
eberyting !  " 

"But  didn't  he  tell  you?" 

"  Not  a  singly  breaf !  he  better  not !  he  know  bery  well  it's 
much  as  his  ole  wool's  worf  to  say  a  word  agin  dat  gal  to  me. 
!N"o,  he  on'y  say  how  Miss  Nora  wer'  bery  ill,  an'  in  want  ob 
eberyting  in  de  worl'  an'  eberyting  else  besides.  An'  how  here 
wer'  a  chance  to  'vest  our  property  to  'vantage,  by  lendin'  of 
it  te  de  Lor',  accordin'  te  de  Scriptur's  as  '  whoever  giveth  to 
the  poor  lendeth  to  the  Lord.'  So  I  hunted  up  all  I  could  spare 
and  fotch  it  ober  here,  little  thinkin'  what  a  sight  would  meet 
my  old  eyes !    Well,  Lord !  " 

"  But,  Dinah,"  said  the  weeping  Hannah,  "  you  must  not 
think  ill  of  Nora !  She  does  not  deserve  it.  And  you  must  not, 
indeed." 

"  Chile,  it  aint  for  me  to  judge  no  poor  motherless  gal  as  is 
already  'peared  afore  her  own  Righteous  Judge." 

"  Yes,  but  you  shall  judge  her !  and  judge  her  with  righteous 
judgment,  too !  You  have  known  her  all  your  life — all  hers,  I 
mean.  You  put  the  first  baby  clothes  on  her  that  she  ever 
wore !  And  you  will  put  the  last  dress  that  she  ever  will !  And 
now  judge  her,  Dinah,  looking  on  her  pure  brow,  and  remem- 
bering her  past  life,  is  she  a  girl  likely  to  have  been  '  led 
astray,'  as  you  call  it  ? " 

"No,  'fore  my  'Vine  Marster  in  heaben,  aint  she?  Ad 
I  'membei^s  ob  de  time  anybody  had  a-breaved  a  s'picion  ob 
Miss  Nora,  I'd  jest  up'd  an'  boxed  deir  years  for  'em  good — 


il-i  ishmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

'deed  me!  But  what  staggers  of  me,  honey,  is  dat!  How  da 
debil  we  gwine  to  'count  for  datf "  questioned  old  Dinah, 
pointing  in  sorrowful  suspicion  at  the  child. 

For  all  answer  Hannah  beckoned  to  the  old  woman  to 
watch  her,  while  she  untied  from  Nora's  neck  a  najrrow  black 
ribbon,  and  removed  from  it  a  plain  gold  ring. 

"  A  wedding-ring !  "  exclaimed  Dinah,  in  perplexity. 

"Yes,  it  was  put  upon  her  finger  by  the  man  that  married 
her.  Then  it  was  taken  oif  and  hung  around  her  neck,  because 
for  certain  reasons  she  could  not  wear  it  openly.  But  now  it 
shall  go  with  her  to  the  grave  in  its  right  place,"  said  Hannah, 
as  she  slipped  the  ring  upon  the  poor  dead  finger. 

"  Lor',  child,  who  was  it  as  married  of  her  ? " 

"  I  cannot  tell  you.    I  am  bound  to  secrecy." 

The  old  negress  shook  her  head  slowly  and  doubtfully. 

"  I's  no  misdoubts  as  she  was  innocenter  dan  a  lamb,  her- 
self, for  she  do  look  it  as  she  lay  dar  wid  de  heabenly  smile 
frozen  on  her  face;  but  I  do  misdoubts  dese  secrety  marriages; 
I  'siders  ob  'em  no  'count.  Ten  to  one,  honey,  de  poor  f  orso'k 
sinner  as  married  her  has  anoder  wife  some'ers." 

Without  knowing  it  the  old  woman  had  hit  the  exact  truth. 

Hannah  sighed  deeply,  and  wondered  silently  how  it  waa 
that  neither  Dinah  nor  Jovial  had  ever  once  suspected  their 
young  master  to  be  the  man. 

Old  Dinah  perceived  that  her  conversation  distressed  Han- 
nah, and  so  she  threw  off  her  bonnet  and  cloak  and  set  herself 
to  work  to  help  the  poor  bereaved  sister. 

There  was  enough  to  occupy  both  women.  There  was  the 
dead  mother  to  be  prepared  for  burial,  and  there  was  the  living 
child  to  be  cared  for. 

By  the  time  that  they  had  laid  Nora  out  in  her  only  white 
dress,  and  had  fed  the  babe  and  put  it  to  sleep,  and  cleaned  up 
the  cottage,  the  winter  day  had  drawn  to  its  close  and  the  room 
was  growing  dark. 

Old  Dinah,  thinking  it  was  time  to  light  up,  took  a  home- 
dipped  candle  from  the  cupboard,  and  seeing  a  piece  of  soiled 
paper  on  the  table,  actually  lighted  her  candle  with  a  check  for 
five  thousand  dollars! 

And  thus  it  happened  that  the  poor  boy  who,  without  any 
fault  of  his  mother,  had  come  into  the  world  with  a  stigma  on 
his  birth,  now,  without  any  neglect  of  his  father,  was  left  in  a 
state  of  complete  destitution  as  well  as  of  entire  orphanage. 


OVER    NORAS    GRAVE.  115 

On  tBe  Tuesday  following  her  death  poor  ^ora  "Worth  was 
laid  in  her  humble  grave  under  a  spreading  oak  behind  the 
hut. 

This  spot  was  selected  by  Hannah,  who  wished  to  keep  her 
sister's  last  resting-place  always  in  her  sight,  and  who  insisted 
that  every  foot  of  God's  earth,  enclosed  or  unenclosed — con- 
secrated or  unconsecrated — was  holy  ground. 

Jim  Morris,  Professor  of  Odd  Jobs  for  the  country  side, 
made  the  coffin,  dug  the  grave,  and  managed  the  funeral. 

The  Rev.  William  Wynne,  the  minister  who  had  performed 
the  fatal  nuptial  ceremony  of  the  fair  bride,  read  the  funeral 
services  over  her  dead  body. 

!N"o  one  was  present  at  the  burial  but  Hannah  Worth, 
Reuben  Gray,  the  two  old  negroes,  Dinah  and  Jovial,  the  Pro- 
fessor of  Odd  Jobs,  and  the  officiating  clergyman. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

OVER  NORA'S  GRAVE. 

Oh,  Mother  Earth!  upon  thy  lap, 

Thy  weary  ones  receiving, 
And  o'er  them,  silent  aa  a  dream, 

Thy  grassy  mantle  weaving, 
Fold  softly,  in  thy  long  embrace, 

That  heart  so  worn  and  broken, 
And  cool  its  pnlse  of  lire  beneath 

Thy  shadows  old  and  oaken. 
Shut  out  from  her  the  bitter  woi'd, 

And  serpent  hiss  of  scorning: 
Nor  let  the  storms  of  yestei  Jay 

Disturb  her  quiet  morning. 

—  Whifiier. 

When  the  funeral  ceremonies  were  over  and  the  mourners 
were  coming  away  from  the  grave,  Mr.  Wynne  turned  to  them 
and  said: 

"  Friends,  I  wish  to  have  some  conversation  with  Hannah 
Worth,  if  you  will  excuse  me." 

And  the  humble  group,  with  the  exception  of  Reuben  Gray, 
took  leave  of  Hannah  and  dispersed  to  their  several  homes. 
Reuben  waited  outside  for  the  end  of  the  parson's  interview 
"with  his  betrothed. 

"  This  is  a  great  trial  to  you,  my  poor  girl';  may  the  Lord 
support  you  under  it!"  said  Mr.  Wynne,  as  they  entered  tha 
hut  and  sat  down. 


116  ISHMAEL ;    OE,  EST   THE   DEPTHS. 

Hannah  sobbed. 

"  I  suppose  it  was  the  discovery  of  Mr.  Brudenell's  first 
marriage  that  killed  her?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  sobbed  Hannah. 

"  Ah !  I  often  read  and  speak  of  the  depravity  of  human 
nature;  but  I  could  not  have  believed  Hennan  Brudenell 
capable  of  so  black  a  crime,"  said  Mr.  Wynne,  with  a  shudder. 

"  Sir,"  replied  Hannah,  resolved  to  do  justice  in  spite  of 
her  bleeding  heart,  "  he  isn't  so  guilty  as  you  judge  him  to  be. 
When  he  married  Norah  he  believed  that  his  wife  had  been 
killed  in  a  great  railway  crash,  for  so  it  was  reported  in  all  the 
newspaper  accounts  of  the  accident;  and  he  never  saw  it  con- 
tradicted." 

"  His  worst  fault  then  appears  to  have  been  that  of  reckless 
haste  in  consummating  his  second  marriage,"  said  Mr.  Wynne. 

"Yes;  and  even  for  that  he  had  some  excuse.  His  first 
■wife  was  an  artful  widow,  who  entrapped  him  into  a  union 
and  afterwards  betrayed  his  confidence  and  her  own  honor. 
When  he  heard  she  was  dead,  you  see,  no  doubt  he  was  shocked ; 
but  he  could  not  mourn  for  her  as  he  could  for  a  true,  good 
woman." 

"  Humph !  I  hope,  then,  for  the  sake  of  human  nature  that 
lie  is  not  so  bad  as  I  thought  him.  But  now,  Hannah,  what  do 
you  intend  to  do  ?  " 

"About  what?"  inquired  the  poor  woman  sadly. 

"  About  clearing  the  memory  of  your  sister  and  the  birth  of 
her  son  from  unmerited  shame,"  replied  Mr.  Wynne  gravely. 

"Nothing,"  she  answered  sadly. 

"  Nothing  ?  "  repeated  the  minister,  in  surprise. 

"  Nothing,"  she  reiterated. 

"  What !  will  you  leave  the  stigma  of  undeserved  reproach 
upon  your  sister  in  her  grave  and  upon  her  child  all  his  life, 
"when  a  single  revelation  from  you,  supported  by  my  testimony, 
will  clear  them  both  ? "  asked  the  minister,  in  almost  indignant 
astonishment. 

"  Not  willingly,  the  Lord  above  knows.  Oh,  I  would  die  to 
clear  Nora  from  blame ! "  cried  Hannah,  bursting  into  a  flood 
of  tears. 

"  Well,  then,  do  it,  my  poor  woman !  do  it !  You  can  do 
it,"  said  the  clergyman,  drawing  his  chair  to  her  side  and  lay- 
ing his  hand  kindly  on  her  shoulder.  "  Hannah,  my  girl,  you 
have  a  duty  to  the  dead  and  to  the  living  to  perform.    Do  not 


OYER  NOKA's  GEAYE.  117 

he  afraid  to  attempt  it!  Do  not  be  afraid  to  offend  that 
wealthy  and  powerful  family !  I  will  sustain  you,  for  it  is  my 
duty  as  a  Christian  minister  to  do  so,  even  thoi'gh  they — the 
Brudenells — should  afterwards  turn  all  their  great  influence 
in  the  parish  against  me.  Yes,  1  will  sustain  you,  Hannah! 
What  do  I  say?  I?  A  mightier  arm  than  that  of  any  mortal 
shall  hold  you  up !  " 

"  Oh,  it  is  of  no  use !  the  case  is  quite  past  remedying,"  wept 
Hannah. 

"  But  it  is  not,  I  assure  you !  When  I  first  heard  the  as- 
tounding news  of  Brudenell's  first  marriage  with  the  Countess 
of  Hurstmonceaux,  and  his  wife's  sudden  arrival  at  the  Hall, 
and  recollected  at  the  same  time  his  second  marriage  with 
^ora  Worth,  which  I  myself  had  solemnized,  my  thoughts  flew 
to  his  poor  young  victim,  and  I  pondered  what  could  be  done 
for  her,  and  I  searched  the  laws  of  the  land  bearing  upon  the 
subject  of  marriage.  And  I  found  that  by  these  same  laws — 
when  a  man  in  the  lifetime  of  his  Avife  marries  another  woman, 
the  said  woman  being  in  ignorance  of  the  existence  of  the  said 
wife,  shall  be  held  guiltless  by  the  law,  and  her  child  or 
children,  if  she  have  any  by  the  said  marriage,  shall  be  the 
legitimate  offspring  of  the  mother,  legally  entitled  to  bear  her 
name  and  inherit  her  estates.  That  fits  precisely  JSTora's  case. 
Her  son  is  legitimate.  If  she  had  in  her  own  right  an  estate 
worth  a  billion,  that  child  would  be  hor  heir-at-law.  She  had 
nothing  but  her  good  name!  Her  son  has  a  right  to  inherit 
that — unspotted,  Hannah!  mind,  unspotted!  Your  proper  way 
will  be  to  proceed  against  Herman  Brudenell  for  bigamy,  call 
me  for  a  witness,  establish  the  fact  of  Nora's  marriage,  rescue 
her  memory  and  her  child's  birth  from  the  slightest  shadow  of 
reproach,  and  let  the  consequences  fall  where  they  should  fall, 
upon  the  head  of  the  man !  They  will  not  be  more  serious  than 
he  deserves.  If  he  can  prove  what  he  asserts — that  he  himself 
was  in  equal  ignorance  with  Nora  of  the  existence  of  his  first 
wife,  he  will  be  honorably  acquitted  in  the  court,  though  of 
course  severely  blamed  by  the  community.  Come,  Hannah, 
shall  we  go  to  Baymouth  to-morrow  about  this  business  ? " 

Hannah  was  sobbing  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 

"How  glad  I  would  be  to  clear  Nora  and  her  child  from 
shame,  no  one  but  the  Searcher  of  Hearts  can  know!  But  I 
dare  not!  I  am  bound  by  a  vow!  a  solemn  vow  made  to  the 
dying!    Poor  girl!  with  her  last  breath  she  besought  me  not 


118  ISHMAEL  !    OR,  IN    THE   DEPTHS. 

to  expose  Mr.  Brudenell,  and  not  to  breathe  one  word  of  his 
marriage  with  her  to  any  living  soul !  "  she  cried. 

"  And  you  were  mad  enough  to  promise !  " 

"I  would  rather  have  bitten  my  tongue  off  than  have  used 
it  in  such  a  fatal  way !  But  she  was  dying  fast,  and  praying  to 
3iie  with  her  uplifted  eyes  and  clasped  hands  and  failing 
breath  to  spare  Herman  Brudenell.  I  had  no  power  to  refuse 
her — my  heart  was  broken.  So  I  bound  my  soul  by  a  vow  to 
be  silent.  And  I  must  keep  my  sacred  promise  made  to  the 
dying;  I  must  keep  it  though,  till  the  Judgment  Day  that  shall 
set  all  things  right,  Nora  Worth,  if  thought  of  it  all,  must  be 
considered  a  fallen  girl  and  her  son  the  child  of  sin ! "  cried 
Hannah,  breaking  into  a  passion  of  tears  and  sobs. 

"  The  devotion  of  woman  passes  the  comprehension  of  man,'* 
said  the  minister  reflectively.  "  But  in  sacrificing  herself 
thus,  had  she  no  thought  of  the  effect  upon  the  future  of  her 
child?" 

"  She  said  he  was  a  boy ;  his  mother  would  soon  be  forgotten ; 
he  would  be  my  nephew,  and  I  was  respected,"  sobbed  Hannah. 

"  In  a  word,  she  was  a  special  pleader  in  the  interest  of  the 
man  whose  reckless  haste  had  destroyed  her !  " 

"  Yes ;  that  was  it !  that  was  it !  Oh,  my  !N"ora !  oh,  my 
young  sister !  it  was  hard  to  see  you  die !  hard  to  see  you 
covered  up  in  the  coffin!  but  it  is  harder  still  to  know  that 
people  will  speak  ill  of  you  in  your  grave,  and  I  cannot  con- 
■vince  them  that  they  are  wrong ! "  said  Hannah,  wringing  her 
hands  in  a  frenzy  of  despair. 

For  trouble  like  this  the  minister  seemed  to  have  no  word 
of  comfort.  He  waited  in  silence  until  she  had  grovpn  a  little 
calmer,  and  then  he  said : 

"  They  say  that  the  fellow  has  fled.  At  least  he  has  not  been 
seen  at  the  Hall  since  the  arrival  of  his  wife.  Have  you  seen, 
anything  of  him  ?  " 

"  He  rushed  in  here  like  a  madman  the  day  she  died,  received 
her  last  prayer  for  his  welfare,  and  threw  himself  out  of  the 
house  again.  Heaven  only  knows  where !  " 

"  Did  he  make  no  provision  for  this  child  ?  " 

"I  do  not  know;  he  said  something  about  it,  and  he  wrote 
something  on  a  paper ;  but  indeed  I  do  not  think  he  knew  what 
he  was  about.  He  was  as  nearly  stark  mad  as  ever  you  saw 
a  man ;  and,  anyway,  he  went  off  without  leaving  anything  but 
that  bit  of  paper ;  and  it  i?  but  right  for  me  to  say,  sir,  that  I 


OVER  kora's  grave.         119 

would  not  tave  taken  anything  from  him  on  behalf  of  the 
child.  If  the  poor  boy  cannot  have  his  father's  family  name 
he  shall  not  have  anything  else  from  him  with  my  consent ! 
Those  are  my  principles,  Mr.  Wynne!  I  can  work  for  Nora's 
orphan  boy  just  as  I  worked  for  my  mother's  orphan  girl, 
which  was  Nora,  herself,  sir." 

"Perhaps  you  are  right,  Hannah.  But  where  is  that  paper. 
I  should  much  like  to  see  it,"  said  the  minister. 

"  The  paper  he  wrote  and  left,  sir  ? " 

"  Yes ;  show  it  to  me." 

•'Lord  bless  your  soul,  sir,  it  wasn't  of  no  account;  it  wag 
':he  least  little  scrap,  with  about  three  lines  wrote  on  it;  I 
didn't  take  any  care  of  it.  Heavens  knows  that  I  had  other 
things  to  think  of  than  that.  But  I  will  try  to  find  it  if  you 
wish  to  look  at  it,"  said  Hannah,  rising. 

Her  search  of  course  was  vain,  and  after  turning  up  every- 
thing in  the  house  to  no  purpose  she  came  back  to  the  parson, 
and  said: 

"I  dare  say  it  is  swept  away  or  burnt  up;  but,  anyway,  it 
isn't  worth  troubling  one's  self  about  it." 

"  I  think  differently,  Hannah;  and  I  would  advise  you  to 
search,  and  make  inquiry,  and  try  your  best  to  find  it.  And  if 
you  do  so,  just  put  it  away  in  a  very  safe  place  until  you  can. 
show  it  to  me.  And  now  good-by,  my  girl;  trust  in  the  Lord, 
and  keep  up  your  heart,"  said  the  minister,  taking  his  hat  and 
stick  to  depart. 

When  Mr.  Wynne  had  gone  Eeuben  Gray,  who  had  beea 
walking  about  behind  the  cottage,  came  in  and  said: 

"Hannah,  my  dear,  I  have  got  something  very  particular  to 
say  to  you;  but  I  feel  as  this  is  no  time  to  say  it  exactly,  so  I 
only  want  to  ask  you  when  I  may  come  and  have  a  talk  with 
you,  Hannah." 

"  Any  time,  Reuben ;  next  Sunday,  if  you  dike." 

"  Very  well,  my  dear ;  next  Sunday  it  shall  be !  God  bless 
you,  Hannah;  and  God  bless  the  poor  boy,  too.  I  mean  to 
adopt  that  child,  Hannah,  and  cowhide  his  father  within  an. 
inch  of  his  life,  if  ever  I  find  him  out !  " 

"Talk  of  all  this  on  Sunday  when  you  come,  Reuben;  not 
now,  oh,  not  now ! '' 

"  Sartinly  not  now,  my  dear;  I  see  the  impropriety  of  it. 
Good-by,  my  dear.  Now,  shan't  I  send  Nancy  or  Peggy  over 
to  stay  with  you  ? " 


120  ISIIMAEL  ;    OR,  IIT   THE    DEPTHS. 

"  Upon  nO'  account,  Reuben." 

"  Just  as  you  say,  then.     Good-by,  my  poor  dear," 
And  after  another  dozen  affectionate  adieus  Reuben  reluct- 
antly dragged  himself  from,  the  hut. 


CHiVPTER  Xy. 

NORA'S  SON. 

Look  on  thia  babe;  and  let  thy  pride  take  heed. 

Thy  pride  of  manhood,  intellect  or  fame, 
That  thou  despise  him  not;  for  he  indeed, 

And  such  as  he  in  spirit  and  heart  the  same, 
Are  God's  own  children  in  that  kingdom  bright 

Where  purity  is  praise,  and  where  before 
The  Father's  throne,  triumphant  evermore, 

The  ministering  angels,  sons  of  light, 
Stand  unreproved  because  they  offer  there. 

Mixed  with  the  Mediator's  hallowing  prayer, 
The  innocence  ol;  babes  in  Christ  like  this. 

—M.  F.  Tuppcr. 

Hannah,  was  left  alone  with  her  sorrows  and  her  mortifica- 
tions. 

Never  until  now  had  she  so  intensely  realized  her  bereave- 
ment and  heir  solitude.  Nora  was  buried;  and  the  few  humble 
friends  v/ho  had  sympathized  with  her  were  gone ;  and  so  she 
was  alone  with  her  great  troubles.  She  threw  herself  into  a 
chair,  and  for  the  third  or  fourth  time  that  day  broke  into  a 
storm  of  grief.  And  the  afternoon  had  faded  nearly  inta 
night  before  she  regained  composure.  Even  then  she  sat  like 
one  palsied  by  despair,  until  a  cry  of  distress  aroused  her.  It 
was  the  wail  of  Nora's  infant.  She  arose  and  took  the  child 
and  laid  it  on  her  lap  to  feed  it.  Even  Hannah  looked  at  it 
with  a  pity  that  was  almost  allied  to  contempt. 

It  was  in  fact  the  thinnest,  palest,  puniest  little  object  that 
liad  ever  come  into  this  world  prematurely,  uncalled  for,  and 
unwelcome.  It  did  not  look  at  all  likely  to  live.  And  as 
Hannah  fed  the  ravenous  little  skeleton  she  could  not  help 
mentally  calculating  the  number  of  its  hours  on  earth,  and 
wishing  that  she  had  thought  to  request  Mr.  Wynne,  while  he 
was  in  the  house,  to  baptize  the  wretched  baby,  so  little  likely 
to  live  for  another  opportunity.  Nor  could  Hannah  desire 
that  it  should  live.  It  had  brought  sorrow,  death,  and  dis- 
grace into  the  hut,  and  it  had  nothing  but  poverty,  want,  and 


noea's  sot?'.  121 

shame  for  its  portion  in  this  world;  and  so  the  sooner  it  fol- 
lowed its  mother  the  better,  thought  Hannah — short-sighted 
moirtal. 

Had  Hannah  been  a  discemer  of  spirits  to  recognize  the 
soul  in  that  miserable  little  baby-body! 

Or  had  she  been  a  seeress  to  foresee  the  future  of  that  child 
of  sorrow ! 

Reader,  this  boy  is  our  hero;  a  real  hero,  too,  who  actually 
lived  and  suffered  and  toiled  and  triumphed  in  this  land! 

"  Out  of  the  depths  "  he  came  indeed !  Out  of  the  depths 
of  poverty,  sorrow,  and  degradation  he  rose,  by  God's  blessing 
on  his  aspirations,  to  the  very  zenith  of  fame,  honor,  and  glory ! 

He  made  his  name,  the  only  name  he  was  legally  entitled  to 
bear — his  poor  wronged  mother's  maiden-name — illustrious  in 
the  annals  of  our  nation ! 

But  this  is  to  anticipate. 

.'N'o  vision  of  future  glory,  however,  arose  before  the  poor 
weaver's  imagination  as  she  sat  in  that  old  hut  holding  the 
wee  boy  on  her  lap,  and  for  his  sake  as  well  as  for  her  own  be- 
grudging him  every  hour  of  the  few  days  she  supposed  he  had 
to  live  upon  this  earth.  Yes !  Hannah  would  have  felt  re- 
lieved and  satisfied  if  that  child  had  been  by  his  mother's  side 
in  the  coffin  rather  than  been  left  on  her  lap. 

Only  think  of  that,  my  readers ;  think  of  the  utter,  utter  des- 
titution of  a  poor  little  sickly,  helpless  infant  whose  only  rela- 
tive would  have  been  glad  to  see  him  dead !  Our  Ishmael  had 
neither  father,  mother,  name,  nor  place  in  the  world.  He  had 
no  legal  right  to  be  in  it  at  all;  no  legal  right  to  the  air  he 
breathed,  or  to  the  sunshine  that  warmed  him  into  life;  no 
right  to  love,  or  pity,  or  care;  he  had  nothing — nothing  but 
the  eye  of  the  Almighty  Father  regarding  him.  But  Hannah 
Worth  was  a  conscientious  woman,  and  even  v/hile  wishing  the 
poor  boy's  death  she  did  everything  in  her  power  to  keep  him. 
elive,  hoping  all  woixld  be  in  vain. 

Hannah,  as  you  know,  was  very,  very  poor.  And  with  this 
child  upon  her  hands  she  expected  to  be  much  poorer.  She  was 
a  weaver  of  domestic  carpets  and  counterpanes  and  of  those 
coarse  cotton  and  woolen  cloths  of  which  the  common  cloth- 
ing of  the  plantation  negroes  are  made,  and  the  most  of  her 
work  came  from  Brudenell  Hall.  She  used  to  have  to  go  and 
fetch  the  yarn,  and  then  carry  home  the  web.  She  had  a  piece 
of  cloth  now  ready  to  take  home  to  Mrs.  Brudenell's  house- 


122  isHi^rAEL ;  oe,  iit  the  depths. 

keeper;  but  she  abhorred  the  very  idea  of  carrying  it  there,  or 
of  asking  for  more  work. 

Nora  had  been  ignominiously  turned  from  the  house,  cruelly 
driven  out  into  the  midnight  storm;  that  had  partly  caused 
lier  death.  And  should  she,  her  sister,  degrade  her  woman- 
hood by  going  again  to  that  house  to  solicit  work,  or  even  to 
carry  back  what  she  had  finished,  to  meet,  perhaps,  the  same 
insults  that  had  maddened  Nora? 

No,  never;  she  would  starve  and  see  the  child  starve  first. 
The  web  of  cloth  should  stay  there  until  Jim  Morris  should 
come  along,  when  she  would  get  him  to  take  it  to  Brudenell 
Hall.  And  she  would  seek  work  from  other  planters'  wives. 
She  had  four  dollars  and  a  half  in  the  house — the  money, 
you  know,  that  old  Mrs.  Jones,  with  all  her  hardness,  had  yet 
refused  to  take  from  the  poor  woman.  And  then  Mrs.  Bru- 
denell owed  her  five  and  a  half  for  the  weaving  of  this  web 
of  cloth.  In  all  she  had  ten  dollars,  eight  of  which  she  owed 
to  the  Professor  of  Odd  Jobs  for  his  services  at  Nora's  funeral. 
The  remaining  two  she  hoped  would  supply  her  simple  Avants 
until  she  found  work.  And  in  the  meantime  she  need  not  be 
idle;  she  would  employ  her  time  in  cutting  up  some  of  poor 
Nora's  clothes  to  make  an  outfit  for  the  baby — for  if  the  little 
object  lived  but  a  week  it  must  be  clothed — now  it  was  only 
"wrapped  up  in  a  piece  of  flannel. 

While  Hannah  meditated  upon  these  things  the  baby  went  to 
sleep  on  her  lap,  and  she  took  it  up  and  laid  it  in  Nora's  va- 
cated place  in  her  bed. 

And  soon  after  Hannah  took  her  solitary  cup  of  tea,  and  shut 
up  the  hut  and  retired  to  bed.  She  had  not  had  a  good  night's 
rest  since  that  fatal  night  of  Nora's  flight  through  the  snow 
storm  to  Brudenell  Hall,  and  her  subsequent  illness  and  death. 
Now,  therefore,  Hannah  slept  the  sleep  of  utter  mental  and 
physical  prostration. 

The  babe  did  not  disturb  her  repose.  Indeed,  it  was  a  very 
patient  little  sufferer,  if  such  a  term  may  be  applied  to  so 
young  a  child.  But  it  was  strange  that  an  infant  so  pale,  thin, 
and  sickly,  deprived  of  its  mother's  nursing  care  besides,  should 
Lave  made  so  little  plaint  and  given  so  little  trouble.  Perhaps 
in  the  lack  of  human  pity  he  had  the  love  of  heavenly  spirits, 
■who  watched  over  him,  soothed  his  pains,  and  stilled  his  cries. 
We  cannot  tell  how  that  may  have  been,  but  it  is  certain  that 
Ishmael  was  an  angel  from  his  very  birth, 


koka's  son.  123 

The  next  day,  as  Hannah  was  standing  at  the  table,  busy  in 
Cutting  out  small  garments,  and  the  baby-boy  was  lying  upon, 
the  bed  equally  busy  in  sucking  his  thumb,  the  door  was  pushed 
open  and  the  Pi'ofessor  of  Odd  Jobs  stood  in  the  doorway,  with 
a  hand  upon  either  post,  and  sadness  on  his  usually  good- 
humored  and  festive  countenance. 

"Ah,  Jim,  is  that  you?  Come  in,  your  money  is  all  ready 
ifor  you,"  said  Hannah  on  perceiving  him. 

It  is  not  the  poor  who  "  grind  the  faces  of  the  poor."  Jim 
Morris  would  have  scorned  to  have  taken  a  dollar  from  Hannah 
.Worth  at  this  trying  crisis  of  her  life. 

"Now,  Miss  Hannah,"  he  answered,  as  he  came  in  at  her 
bidding,  "please  don't  you  say  one  word  to  me  'bout  de  filthy 
lucre,  'less  you  means  to  'suit  me  an'  hurt  my  feelin's.  I  don't 
'quire  of  no  money  for  doin'  of  a  man's  duty  by  a  lone  'oman! 
Think  Jim  Morris  is  a  man  to  'pose  upon  a  lone  'oman  ?  Hopes 
not,  indeed!  No,  Miss  Hannah!  I  aint  a  wolf,  nor  likewise 
a  bear !  Our  Heabenly  Maker,  he  gib  us  our  lives  an'  de  earth 
an'  all  as  is  on  it,  for  ourselves  free!  And  what  have  we  ta 
render  him  in  turn?  Nothing!  And  what  does  he  'quire 
ob  us  ?  On'y  lub  him  and  lub  each  oder,  like  human  beings  an' 
'mortal  souls  made  in  his  own  image  to  live  forever!  and  not 
to  screw  and  'press  each  oder,  and  dewour  an'  prey  on  each 
oder  like  de  wild  beastesses  dat  perish !  And  I  considers.  Miss 
Hannah " 

And  here,  in  fact,  the  professor,  having  secured  a  patient 
hearer,  launched  into  an  oration  that,  were  I  to  report  it  word 
for  word,  would  take  up  more  room  than  we  can  spare  him.  He 
brought  his  discourse  round  in  a  circle,  and  ended  where  he  had 
begun. 

"And  so.  Miss  Hannah,  say  no  more  to  me  'bout  de  money,_ 
'less  you  want  to  woun'  my  feelin's." 

"  Well,  I  will  not,  Morris ;  but  I  feel  so  grateful  to  you  that 
I  would  like  to  repay  you  in  something  better  than  mere  words," 
said  Hannah. 

"And  so  you  shall,  honey,  so  you  shall,  soon  as  eber  I  has 
de  need  and  you  has  de  power!  But  now  don't  you  go  and 
fall  into  de  pop'lar  error  of  misparagin'  o'  words.  Words! 
"why  words  is  de  most  powerfullist  engine  of  good  or  evil  in  dis 
worl'!  Words  is  to  idees  what  bodies  is  to  souls!  Wid  words 
you  may  save  a  human  from  dispair,  or  you  may  drive  him  to 
perdition!     Wid  words  you  may  confer  happiness  or  misery! 


124      ishmael;  oe,  in  the  depths. 

"Wid  words  a  great  captain  may  rally  his  discomforted  troops, 

.an'  lead  'em  on  to  wictory !  wid  words  a  great  congressman  may 
change  the  laws  of  de  land!  Wid  words  a  great  lawyer  may 
'suade  a  jury  to  hang  an  innocent  man,  or  to  let  a  murderer 
go  free.  It's  bery  fashionable  to  misparage  words,  callin'  o£ 
'em  '  mere  words.'  Mere  words !  mere  fire !  mere  life !  mere 
death !  mere  heaben  !  mere  hell !  as  soon  as  mere  words !  What 
are  all  the  grand  books  in  de  worl'  filled  with?  words!  What 
is  the  one  great  Book  called?  What  is  the  Bible  called?  De 
Word !  "  said  the  professor,  spreading  out  his  arms  in  triumph 

.at  this  peroration. 

Hannah  gazed  in  very  sincere  admiration  upon  this  orator, 
and  when  he  had  finished,  said: 

"  Oh,  Morris,  what  a  pity  you  had  not  been  a  white  man,  and 

';been  brought  up  at  a  learned  profession !  " 

"  Now  aint  it,  though.  Miss  Hannah  ? "  said  Morris. 

"  You  would  have  made  such  a  splendid  la^vyer  or  parson ! " 

(Continued  the  simple  woman,  in  all  sincerity. 

"  Now  wouldn't  I,  though?"  complained  the  professor.  "  Now 
aint  it  a  shame  I'm  nyther  one  nor  t'other?  I  have  so  many 
bright  idees  all  of  my  own!  I  might  have  lighted  de  'ciety 
an'  made  my  f ortin  at  de  same  time !     Well !  "  he  continued, 

-with  a  sigh  of  resignation,  "  if  I  can't  make  my  own  fortin  I 
can  still  lighten  de  'ciety  if  only  dey'd  let  me ;  an'  I'm  willin' 
to  do  it  for  nothin'!  But  people  won't  'sent  to  be  lighted  by 

-me;  soon  as  ever  I  begins  to  preach  or  to  lecture  in  season,  an' 
out'n  season,  de  white  folks,  dey  shut  up  my  mouf ,  short !  It's 
trufe  I'm  a-tellin'  of  you,  Miss  Hannah!  Dey  aint  no  ways 
like  you.  Dey  can't  'preciate  ge'nus.  Now  I  mus'  say  as  you 
can,  in  black  or  white!  An'  when  I's  so  happy  as  to  meet  long 
of  a  lady  like  you  who  can  'preciate  me,  I'm  willin'  to  do  any- 
thing in  the  wide  worl'  for  her !  I'd  make  coffins  an'  dig  graves 
for  her  an'  her  friends  from  one  year's  end  to  de  t'other  free, 
an'  glad  of  de  chance  to  do  it !  "  concluded  the  professor,  with 
enthusiastic  good-will. 

"I  thank  you  very" kindly,  Jim  Morris;  but  of  course  I  would 
not  like  to  give  you  so  much  trouble,"  replied  Hannah,  in  per- 
fect innocence  of  sarcasm. 

"  La,  it  wouldn't  be  no  trouble,  Miss  Hannah !  But  then, 
ma'am,  I  didn't  come  over  here  to  pass  compliments,  nor  no 
sich!  I  come  with  a  message  from  old  madam  up  yonder  at 
BrudenellHall." 


noea's  son.  125 

"Ah,''  said  Hannah,  in  much,  surprise  and  more  disgust, 
"  what  may  have  been  her  message  to  me  ?  " 

"  Well,  Miss  Hannah,  it  may  have  been  the  words  of  com- 
fort, such  as  would  become  a  Christian  lady  to  send  to  a  sor- 
rowing f ellow-creatur' ;  only  it  wasn't,"  sighed  Jim  Morris. 

"  I  want  no  such  hypocritical  words  from  her !  "  said  Hannah 
indignantly. 

"  Well,  honey,  she  didn't  send  none ! " 

"What  did  she  send?" 

"Well,  chile,  de  madam,  she  'quested  of  me  to  come  over 
here  an'  hand  you  dis  five  dollar  an'  a  half,  which  she  says 
she  owes  it  to  you.  An'  also  to  ax  you  to  send  by  the  bearer, 
which  is  me,  a  certain  piece  of  cloth,  which  she  says  how  you've 
done  wove  for  her.  An'  likewise  to  tell  you  as  you  needn't 
come  to  Brudenell  Hall  for  more  work,  which  there  is  no  more 
to  give  you.  Here,  Miss  Hannah,  dere's  de  message  jes'  as 
de  madam  give  it  to  me,  which  I  hopes  you'll  'sider  as  I  fetch 
it  in  de  way  of  my  perfession,  an'  not  take  no  'fense  at  me 
who  never  meant  any  towards  you,"  said  the  professor  depre- 
catingly. 

"  Of  course  not,  Morris.  So  far  from  being  angry  with  you, 
I  am  very  thankful  to  you  for  coming.  You  have  relieved  me 
from  a  quandary.  I  didn't  know  how  to  return  the  work  or 
to  get  the  pay.  For  after  what  has  happened,  Morris,  the  cloth 
might  have  stayed  here  and  the  money  there,  forever,  before 
I  would  have  gone  near  Brudenell  Hall !  " 

Morris  slapped  his  knee  with  satisfaction,  saying : 

"  Just  what  I  thought.  Miss  Hannah !  which  made  me  the 
more  willing  to  bring  de  message.  So  now  if  you'll  jest  take 
de  money  an'  give  me  de  cloth,  I'U  be  off.  I  has  got  some  clocks 
and  umberell's  to  mend  to-night.  And  dat  minds  me'  if  you'll 
give  me  dat  broken  coffee-mill  o'  yourn  I'll  fix  it  at  de  same 
time,"  said  the  professor. 

Hannah  complied  with  all  his  requests,  and  he  took  his  de- 
parture. 

He  had  scarcely  got  out  of  sight  when  Hannah  had  another 
visitor,  Reuben  Gray,  who  entered  the  hut  with  looks  of  de- 
precation and  words  of  apology. 

"  Hannah,  woman,  I  couldn't  wait  till  Sunday !  I  couldn't 
rest!  Knowing  of  your  situation,  I  felt  as  if  I  must  come  to 
you  and  say  what  I  had  on  my  mind !    Do  you  forgive  me  ?  " 

"  For  what  ? "  asked  Hannah  in  surprise. 


126      ishmael;  ok,  in  the  depths. 

"  For  coining  afore  Sunday." 

"  Sit  down,  Reuben,  and  don't  be  silly.  As  well  have  it  over 
now  as  any  other  time." 

"  Very  well,  then,  Hannah,"  said  the  man,  drawing  a  chair 
to  the  table  at  which  she  sat  working,  and  seating  himself. 

"  Now,  then,  what  have  you  to  say,  Reuben  ?  " 

"  Well,  Hannah,  my  dear,  you  see  I  didn't  want  to  make  a 
disturbance  while  the  body  of  that  poor  girl  lay  unburied  in 
the  house;  but  now  I  ask  you  right  up  and  down  who  is  the 
wretch  as  wronged  Nora  ? "  demanded  the  man  with  a  look  of 
sternness  Hannah  had  never  seen  on  his  patient  face  before. 

"  Why  do  you  wish  to  know,  Reuben  ?  "  she  inquired  in  a  low 
voice. 

"  To  kill  him." 

"Reuben  Gray!" 

"Well,  what's  the  matter,  girl?" 

"  Would  you  do  murder  ?  " 

"  Sartainly  not,  Hannah ;  but  I  will  kill  the  villain  as  wronged 
ISTora  wherever  I  find  him,  as  I  would  a  mad  dog." 

"  It  would  be  the  same  thing !   It  would  be  murder !  " 

"No,  it  wouldn't,  Hannah.  It  would  be  honest  killing. 
For  when  a  cussed  villain  hunts  down  and  destroys  an  inno- 
cent girl,  he  ought  to  be  counted  an  outlaw  that  any  man  may 
slay  who  finds  him.  And  if  so  be  ho  don't  get  his  death  from 
the  first  comer,  he  ought  co  be  sure  of  getting  it  from  the 
girl's  nearest  male  relation  or  next  friend.  And  if  every  such 
scoundrel  knew  he  was  sure  to  die  for  his  crime,  and  the  law 
would  hold  his  slayer  guiltless,  there  would  be  a  deal  less  sin 
and  misery  in  this  world.  As  for  me,  Hannah,  I  feel  it  to  be 
my  solemn  duty  to  Nora,  to  womankind,  and  to  the  world,  to 
seek  out  the  wretch  as  wronged  her  and  kill  him  where  I  find 
him,  just  as  I  would  a  rattlesnaJvO  as  had  bit  my  child." 

"  They  would  hang  you  for  it,  Reuben !  "  shuddered  Hannah. 

"  Then  they'd  do  very  wrong !  But  they'd  not  hang  me,  Han- 
nah! Thank  Heaven,  in  these  here  parts  we  all  vally  our 
women's  innocence  a  deal  higher  than  we  do  our  lives,  or  even 
our  honor.  And  if  a  man  is  right  to  kill  another  in  defense  of 
his  own  life,  he  is  doubly  right  to  do  so  in  defense  of  woman's 
honor.  And  judges  and  juries  know  it,  too,  and  feel  it,  as  has 
been  often  proved.  But  anyways,  whether  or  no,"  said  Reuben 
Gray,  with  the  dogged  persistence  for  which  men  of  his  class 
are  often  noted,  "  I  want  to  find  that  man  to  give  him  his  dues." 


If  OKA'S    SOIT.  127 

"  And  be  hung  for  it,"  said  Hannah  curtly. 

"  ISTo,  my  dear,  I  don't  want  to  be  hung  for  the  fellow.  In- 
deed, to  tell  the  truth,  I  shouldn't  like  it  at  all;  I  know  I 
shouldn't  beforehand;  but  at  the  same  time  I  mustn't  shrink 
from  doing  of  my  duty  first,  and  suffering  for  it  afterwards, 
if  necessary !     So  now  for  the  rascal's  name,  Hannah !  " 

"  Reuben  Gray,  I  couldn't  tell  you  if  I  would,  and  I  wouldn't 
tell  you  if  I  could!  What!  do  you  think  that  I,  a  Christian 
woman,  am  going  to  send  you  in  your  blind,  brutal  vengeance 
to  commit  the  greatest  crime  you  possibly  coiild  commit  ? " 

''  Crime,  Hannah!  why,  it  is  a  holy  duty!  " 

*'  Duty,  Reuben !  Do  you  live  in  the  middle  of  the  nine- 
teenth century,  in  a  Christian  land,  and  have  you  been  going 
to  church  all  your  life,  and  hearing  the  gospel  of  peace  preached 
to  this  end  ?  " 

"  Yes !  For  the  Lord  himself  is  a  God  of  vengeance.  He 
destroyed  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  by  fire,  and  once  He  destroyed 
the  whole  world  by  water ! " 

^' '  The  devil  can  quote  Scripture  for  his  purpose,'  Reuben ! 
and  I  think  he  is  prompting  you  now !  What !  do  you,  a  mortal, 
take  upon  yourself  the  divine  right  of  punishing  sin  by  death? 
Reuben,  when  from  the  dust  of  the  earth  you  can  make  a  man, 
and  breathe  into  his  nostrils  the  breath  of  life,  then  perhaps 
you  may  talk  of  punishing  sin  with  death.  You  cannot  even 
m.ake  the  smallest  gnat  or  worm  live !  How  then  could  you  dare 
to  stop  the  sacred  breath  of  life  in  a  man !  "  said  Hannah. 

"  I  don't  consider  the  life  of  a  wretch  who  has  destroyed  an 
innocent  girl  sacred  by  any  means,"  persisted  Reuben. 

"  The  more  sinful  the  man,  the  more  sacred  his  life !  " 

"Well,  I'm  blowed  to  thunder,  Hannah,  if  that  aint  the 
Tummest  thing  as  ever  I  heard  said!  the  more  sinful  a  man, 
the  more  sacred  his  life !    What  will  you  tell  me  next !  " 

"  Why,  this :  that  if  it  is  a  great  crime  to  kill  a  good  man, 
it  is  the  greatest  of  all  crimes  to  kill  a  bad  one !  " 

To  this  startling  theory  Reuben  could  not  even  attempt  a 
reply.  He  -could  only  stare  at  her  in  blank  astonishment.  His 
mental  caliber  could  not  be  compared  with  Hannah's  in  capa- 
city. 

"Have  patience,  dear  Reuben,  and  I  will  make  it  all  clear 
to  you!  The  more  sinful  the  man,  the  more  sacred  his  life 
should  be  considered,  because  in  that  lies  the  only  chance  of 
his  repentance,  redemption,  and  salvation.     And  is  a  greatei 


128      ishmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

crime  to  kill  a  bad  man  than  to  kill  a  good  one,  because  if  you 
kill  a  good  man,  you  kill  his  body  only;  but  if  you  kill  a  bad 
man,  you  kill  both  his  body  and  his  soul !  Can't  you  understand 
that  now,  dear  Reuben  ?  " 

Reuben  rubbed  his  forehead,  and  answered  sullenly,  like  one 
about  to  be  convinced  against  his  will : 

"  Oh,  I  know  what  you  mean,  well  enough,  for  that  matter.'* 

"  Then  you  must  know,  Reuben,  why  it  is  that  the  wicked 
are  suffered  to  live  so  long  on  this  earth !  People  often  wonder 
at  the  mysterious  ways  of  Providence,  when  they  see  a  good 
man  prematurely  cut  off  and  a  wicked  man  left  alive!  Why, 
it  isn't  mysterious  at  all  to  me!  The  good  man  was  ready  to 
go,  and  the  Lord  took  him;  the  bad  man  was  left  to  his  chance 
of  repentance.  Reuben,  the  Lord,  who  is  the  most  of  all 
offended  by  sin,  spares  the  sinner  a  long  time  to  afford  him 
opportunity  for  repentance !  If  he  wanted  to  punish  the  sinner 
with  death  in  this  world,  he  could  strike  the  sinner  dead !  But 
he  doesn't  do  it,  and  shall  we  dare  to  ?  No !  we  must  bow  in 
humble  submission  to  his  awful  words — '  Vengeance  is  mine ! '  " 

"  Hannah,  you  may  be  right ;  I  dare  say  you  are ;  yes,  Pll 
speak  plain — I  know  you  are!  but  it's  hard  to  put  up  with  such! 
I  feel  baffled  and  disappointed,  and  ready  to  cry!  A  man  feels 
ashamed  to  set  do^vn  quiet  under  such  mortification !  " 

"  Then  I'll  give  you  a  cure  for  that !  It  is  the  remembrance 
of  the  Divine  Man  and  the  dignified  patience  with  which  he 
bore  the  insults  of  the  rabble  crowd  upon  his  day  of  trial !  You 
know  what  those  insults  were,  and  how  he  bore  them!  Pow 
down  before  his  majestic  meekness,  and  pay  him  the  homage 
of  obedience  to  his  command  of  returning  good  for  evil ! " 

"  You're  right,  Hannah !  "  said  Gray,  with  a  great  struggle, 
in  which  he  conquered  his  own  spirit.  "You're  altogether  right, 
my  girl !  So  you  needn't  tell  me  the  name  of  the  wrong-doer ! 
And,  indeed,  you'd  better  not ;  for  the  temptation  to  punish  him 
might  be  too  great  for  my  strength,  as  soon  as  I  am  out  of 
your  sight  and  in  his !  " 

"  Why,  Reuben,  my  lad,  I  could  not  tell  you  if  I  were  inclined 
to  do  so.    I  am  sworn  to  secrecy ! " 

"  Sworn  to  secrecy !  that's  queer  too !     Who  swore  you  ?  " 

"  Poor  Nora,  who  died  forgiving  all  her  enemies  and  at  peace 
with  all  the  world !  " 

"  With  him  too  ?  " 

"With  him  most  of  all!    And  now,  Reuben,  I  want  you  to 


Nora's  son.  129' 

listen  to  me.  I  met  your  ideas  of  vengeance  and  argued  them 
upon  your  own  ground,  for  the  sake  of  convincing  you  that 
vengeance  is  wrong  even  under  the  greatest  possible  provoca- 
tion, such  as  you  believed  that  we  had  all  had.  But,  Reuben, 
you  are  much  mistaken !  We  have  had  no  provocation !  "  said 
Hannah  gravely. 

"  What,  no  provocation !  not  in  the  wrong  done  to  Nora ! ' ' 

"  There  has  been  no  intentional  wrong  done  to  Nora ! " 

"  What !  no  wrong  in  all  that  villainy  ?  " 

"  There  has  been  no  villainy,  Reuben !  " 

"  Then  if  that  wasn't  villainy,  there's  none  in  the  world,, 
and  never  was  any  in  the  world,  that's  all  I  have  got  to  say !  " 

"  Reuben,  Nora  was  married  to  the  father  of  her  child.  He 
loved  her  dearly,  and  meant  her  well.  You  must  believe  this, 
for  it  is  as  true  as  Heaven !  "  said  Hannah  solemnly. 

Reuben  pricked  up  his  ears;  perhaps  he  was  not  sorry  to  be 
entirely  relieved  from  the  temptation  of  killing  and  the  danger 
of  hanging. 

And  Hannah  gave  him  as  satisfactory  an  explanation  of 
Nora's  case  as  she  could  give,  without  breaking  her  promise 
and  betraying  Herman  Brudenell  as  the  partner  of  Nora's 
misfortunes. 

At  the  close  of  her  narrative  Reuben  Gray  took  her  hand,  and 
holding  it,  said  gravely: 

"  Well,  my  dear  girl,  I  suppose  the  affair  must  rest  where  it 
is  for  the  present.  But  this  makes  one  thing  incumbent  upon 
ns."  And  having  said  this,  Reuben  hesitated  so  long  that  Han- 
nah took  up  the  word  and  asked : 

"  This  makes  what  incumbent  upon  us,  lad  ? " 

''  To  get  married  right  away !  "  blurted  out  the  man. 

"  Pray,  have  you  come  into  a  fortune,  Reuben  ? "  inquired 
Hannah  coolly. 

"  No,  child,  but " 

"  Neither  have  I,"  interrupted  Hannah. 

"I  was  going  to  say,"  continued  the  man,  "that  I  have  my 
hands  to  work  with " 

"  For  your  large  family  of  sisters  and  brothers- 


"  And  for  you  and  that  poor  orphan  boy  as  well !  And  I'm 
willing  to  do  it  for  you  all!  And  we  really  must  be  married 
right  away,  Hannah!  I  must  have  a  lawful  right  to  protect 
you  against  the  slights  as  you'll  be  sure  to  receive  after  what's 
happened,  if  you  don't  have  a  husband  to  take  care  of  you." 


130  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  EST   THE   DEPTHS. 

He  paused  and  waited  for  her  reply ;  but  as  slie  did  not  spealc, 
he  began  again: 

"  Come,  Hannah,  my  dear,  what  do  you  say  to  our  being 
married  o'  Sunday  ?  " 

She  did  not  answer,  and  he  continued : 

"  I  think  as  we  better  had  get  tied  together  arter  morning 
service!  And  then,  you  know,  I'll  take  you  and  the  bit  of  a 
baby  home  long  o'  me,  Hannah.  And  I'll  be  a  loving  husband 
to  you,  my  girl ;  and  I'll  be  a  father  to  the  little  lad  with  as  good 
a  will  as  ever  I  was  to  my  ovm  orphan  brothers  and  sisters. 
And  I'll  break  every  bone  in  the  skin  of  any  man  that  looks 
askance  at  him,  too !  Don't  you  fear  for  yourself  or  the  child. 
The  country  side  knows  me  for  a  peaceable-disposed  man; 
but  it  had  rather  not  provoke  me  for  all  that,  because  it  knows 
when  I  have  a  just  cause  of  quarrel,  I  don't  leave  my  work 
half  done!  Come,  Hannah,  what  do  you  say,  my  dear?  Shall 
it  be  o'  Sunday?  You  won't  answer  me?  What,  crying,  my 
girl,  crying !  Vk^hat's  that  for  ?  " 

The  tears  were  streaming  from  Hannah's  eyes.  She  took  up 
her  apron  and  buried  her  face  in  its  folds. 

"  Now  what's  all  that  about  ? "  continued  Reuben,  in  dis- 
tress ;  then  siiddenly  brightening  up,  he  said :  "  Oh,  I  know 
now!  You're  thinking  of  Nancy  and  Peggy!  Don't  be  afeard, 
Hannah!  They  won't  do,  nor  say,  nor  even  so  much  as  look 
anything  to  hurt  your  feelings!  and  they  had  better  not,  if 
they  know  which  side  their  bread  is  buttered !  I  am  the  master 
of  my  own  house,  I  reckon,  poor  as  it  is!  And  my  wife  will 
be  the  mistress;  and  my  sisters  must  keep  their  proper  places! 
Come,  Hannah !  come,  my  darling,  what  do  you  say  to  me  ? " 
he  whispered,  putting  his  arm  over  her  shoulders,  while  he  tried 
to  draw  the  apron  from  her  face. 

She  dropped  her  apron,  lifted  her  face,  looked  at  him  through 
her  falling  tears,  and  answered: 

"  This  is  what  I  have  to  say  to  you,  dear,  dearest,  best  loved 
Heuben !  I  feel  your  goodness  in  the  very  depths  of  my  heart ; 
I  thank  you  with  all  my  soul;  I  will  love  you — you  only — in 
silence  and  in  solitude  all  my  life;  I  will  pray  for  you  daily 
and  nightly;  but "     She  stopped  and  sobbed. 

"  But "  said  Reuben  breathlessly. 

"  I  will  never  carry  myself  and  my  dishonor  under  your 
honest  roof." 

Reuben  caught  his  suspended  breath  with  a  sharp  gasp  and 


noea's  soit.  131 

gazed  in  blanK  dismay  upon  the  sobbing  woman  for  a  few  min- 
utes, and  then  he  said: 

"  Hannah — oh,  my  Lord !  Hannah,  you  never  mean  to  say 
that  you  won't  marry  me  ?  " 

"  I  mean  just  that,  Keuben." 

"  Oh,  Hannah,  what  have  I  done  to  offend  you  ?  I  never 
meant  to  do  it !  I  don't  even  know  how  I've  done  it !  I'm  such 
a  blundering  animal!  But  tell  me  what  it  is,  and  I  will  beg 
your  pardon !  " 

"  It  is  nothing,  you  good,  true  heart !  nothing !  But  you  have 
two  sisters " 

"  There,  I  knew  it !  It's  iN'ancy  and  Peggy !  They've  been 
doing  something  to  hurt  your  feelings!  Well,  Hannah,  they 
shall  come  here  and  ask  your  forgiveness,  or  else  they  shall 
leave  my  home  and  go  to  earn  their  living  in  somebody's 
kitchen!  I've  been  a  father  to  them  gals;  but  I  won't  suffer 
them  to  insult  my  own  dear  Hannah !  "  burst  forth  Reuben. 

"  Dear  Reuben,  you  are  totally  mistaken !  Your  sisters  no 
more  than  yourself  have  ever  given  me  the  least  caiise  of 
offense.  They  could  not,  dear  Reuben!  They  must  be  good 
girls,  being  your  sisters." 

"  Well,  if  neither  I  nor  my  sisters  have  hurt  your  feelings, 
Hannah,  what  in  the  name  of  sense  did  you  mean  by  saying — - 
I  hate  even  to  repeat  the  words — that  you  won't  marry  me?'* 

"  Reuben,  reproach  has  fallen  upon  my  name — undeserved, 
indeed,  but  not  the  less  severe.  You  have  young,  unmarried 
sisters,  with  nothing  but  their  good  names  to  take  them  through 
the  world.  For  their  sakes,  dear,  you  must  not  marry  me  and 
my  reproach ! " 

"  Is  that  all  you  mean,  Hannah  ? " 

"All." 

*'  Then  I  will  marry  you ! " 

"  Reuben,  you  must  give  me  up." 

"  I  won't,  I  say !    So  there,  now." 

"Dear  Reuben,  I  value  your  affection  more  than  T  do  any- 
thing in  this  world  except  duty;  but  I  cannot  permit  you  to 
sacrifice  yourself  to  me,"  said  Hannah,  struggling  hard  to  re- 
press the  sobs  that  were  again  rising  in  her  bosom. 

"  Hannah,  I  begin  to  think  you  want  to  drive  me  crazy  or 
break  my  heart!  What  sacrifice  would  it  be  for  me  to  marry 
you  and  adopt  that  poor  child?  The  only  sacrifice  I  can  think 
of  would  be  to  give  you  up !    But  I  won't  do  it !  no !  I  won't  for 


132      ishmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

nyther  man  nor  mortal !  You  promised  to  marry  me,  Hannah, 
and  I  won't  free  your  promise!  but  I  will  keep  you  to  it,  and 
marry  you,  if  I  die  for  it !  "  grimly  persisted  Keuben  Gray. 

And  before  she  could  reply  they  were  interrupted  by  a  knock 
at  the  door. 

"  Come  in !  "  said  Hannah,  expecting  to  see  Mrs.  Jones  or 
some  other  humble  neighbor. 

The  door  was  pushed  gently  open,  and  a  woman  of  exceeding 
beauty  stood  upon  the  threshold. 

Her  slendej-  but  elegant  form  was  clothed  in  the  deepest 
mourning;  her  pale,  delicate  face  was  shaded  by  the  blackest 
ringlets;  her  large,  dark  eyes  were  fixed  with  the  saddest  in- 
terest uiDon  the  face  of  Hannah  Worth.  ^ 

Hannah  arose  in  great  surprise  to  meet  her. 

*'  You  are  Miss  Worth,  I  suppose  ? "  said  the  young  stranger. 

*'  Yes,  miss ;  what  is  your  will  with  me  ?  " 

"  I  am  the  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux.  Will  you  let  me  rest 
here  a  little  while  ? "  she  asked,  with  a  sweet  smile. 

Hannah  gazed  at  the  speaker  in  the  utmost  astonishment, 
forgetting  to  answer  her  question,  or  offer  a  seat,  or  even  to 
shut  the  door,  through  which  the  wind  was  blowing  fiercely. 

What!  was  this  beautiful  pale  young  creature  the  Countess 
of  Hurstmonceux,  the  rival  of  ISTora,  the  wife  of  Herman  Bru- 
denell,  the  "  bad,  artful  woman  "  who  had  entrapped  the  young 
Oxonian  into  a  discreditable  marriage?    Impossible! 

While  Hannah  stood  thus  dumbfounded  before  the  visitor, 
Heuben  came  forward  with  rude  courtesy,  closed  the  door, 
placed  a  chair  before  the  fire,  and  invited  the  lady  to  be  seated. 

The  countess,  with  a  gentle  bow  of  thanks,  passed  on,  sank 
into  a  chair,  and  let  her  sable  furs  slip  from  her  shoulders 
in  a  drift  around  her  feet. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  FORSAKEN  WIFE. 

He  proyeth  best  who  loveth  most 

All  thin{^B  both  great  and  small, 
For  the  good  God  who  loveth  us, 

He  made  »ud  loveth  all. 

—  Coleridge. 

To  account  for  the  strange  visit  of  the  countess  to  Hannah 
Worth  we  must  change  the  scene  to  Brudenell  Hall. 


XnE    FOKSAKEN    WIFE.  133 

From  the  time  of  her  sudden  arrival  at  her  husband's  house, 
every  hour  had  been  fraught  with  suffering  to  Berenice, 

In  the  first  instance,  where  she  had  expected  to  give  a  joy- 
ful surprise,  she  had  only  given  a  painful  shock;  where  she  had 
looked  for  a  cordial  welcome,  she  had  received  a  cold  repulse; 
finally,  where  she  had  hoped  her  presence  would  confer  happi- 
ness, it  had  brought  misery! 

On  the  very  evening  of  her  arrival  her  husband,  after  meet- 
ing her  with  reproaches,  had  fled  from  the  house,  leaving  no 
clew  to  his  destination,  and  giving  no  reason  for  his  strange 
proceeding. 

Berenice  did  not  understand  this.  She  cast  her  memory  back 
through  all  the  days  of  her  short  married  life  spent  with  Her- 
man Brudenell,  and  she  sought  diligently  for  anything  in  her 
conduct  that  might  have  given  him  offense.  She  could  find 
nothing.  ]^Teither  in  all  their  intercourse  had  he  ever  accused 
her  of  any  wrong-doing.  On  the  contrary,  he  had  been  profuse 
in  words  of  admiration,  protestations  of  love  and  fidelity.  Xow 
what  had  caused  this  fatal  change  in  his  feelings  and  conduct 
towards  her?  Berenice  could  not  tell.  Her  mind  was  as  thor- 
oughly perplexed  as  her  heart  was  deeply  wounded.  At  first 
she  did  not  know  that  he  was  gone  forever.  She  thought  that 
he  would  return  in  an  hour  or  two  and  openly  accuse  her  of 
some  fault,  or  that  he  would  in  some  manner  betray  the  cause 
of  offense  which  he  must  suppose  she  had  given  him.  And 
then,  feeling  sure  of  her  innocence,  she  knew  she  could  ex- 
onerate herself  from  every  shadow  of  blame — except  from  that 
of  loving  him  too  well,  if  he  should  consider  that  a  fault. 

Therefore  she  waited  patiently  for  his  return;  but  when  the 
night  passed  and  he  had  not  come,  she  grew  more  and  more 
uneasy,  and  when  the  next  day  had  passed  without  his  making 
his  appearance  her  uneasiness  rose  to  intolerable  anxiety. 

The  visit  of  poor  Nora  at  night  had  aroused  at  once  her 
suspicions,  her  jealousy,  and  her  compassion.  She  half  be- 
lieved that  in  this  girl  she  saw  her  rival  in  her  husband's 
affections,  the  cause  of  her  own  repudiation  and — what  was 
more  bitter  still  to  the  childless  Hebrew  wife — the  mother  of 
his  children!  This  had  been  very  terrible!  But  to  the  Jewish 
woman  the  child  of  her  husband,  even  if  it  is  at  the  same  time 
the  child  of  her  rival,  is  as  sacred  as  her  own.  Berenice  was 
loyal,  conscientious,  and  compassionate.  In  the  anguish  of  her 
own  deeply  wounded  and  bleeding  heart  she  had  pitied  and 


134      ishmael;  or,  m   the  depths. 

pleaded  for  poor  Nora — had  even  asserted  her  own  authority  as 
jiistress  of  the  house,  for  the  sake  of  protecting  Nora:  her 
husband's  other  wife,  as  in  the  merciful  construction  of  her 
gentle  spirit  she  had  termed  the  unhappy  girl!  But  then, 
my  readers,  you  must  remember  that  Berenice  was  a  Jewess. 
This  poor  unloved  Leah  would  have  sheltered  the  beloved  Ra- 
chel. We  all  know  how  her  generous  intentions  were  carried 
out.  A  second  and  a  third  day  passed,  and  still  there  came 
no  news  of  Herman. 

Berenice,  prostrated  with  the  heart-wasting  sickness  of  hope 
deferred,  kept  her  own  room.  Mrs.  Brudenell  was  indignant 
at  her  son,  not  for  his  neglect  of  his  lovely  young  wife,  but 
for  his  indifference  to  a  wealthy  countess!  She  deferred  her 
journey  to  Washington  in  consideration  of  her  noble  daughter- 
in-law,  and  in  the  hope  of  her  son's  speedy  reappearance  and 
reconciliation  with  his  wife,  when,  she  anticipated,  they  woidd 
all  go  to  Washington  together,  where  the  Countess  of  Hurst- 
monceux  would  certainly  be  the  lioness  and  the  Misses  Bru- 
denell the  belles  of  the  season. 

On  the  evening  of  the  fourth  day,  while  Berenice  lay  ex- 
hausted upon  the  sofa  of  her  bedroom,  her  maid  entered  the 
chamber  saying: 

"  Please,  my  lady,  you  remember  the  young  woman  that  was 
here  on  Friday  evening  ?  " 

*'  Yes !  "  Berenice  was  up  on  her  elbow  in  an  instant,  looking 
eagerly  into  the  girl's  face. 

*'  Your  ladyship  ordered  me  to  make  inquiries  about  her,  but 
I  could  get  no  news  except  from  the  old  man  who  took  her 
tome  out  of  the  snowstorm  and  who  came  back  and  said  she 
.was  ill." 

*'  I  know !  I  know !  You  told  me  that  before.  But  you  have 
iieard  something  else.     What  is  it  ? " 

*'  My  lady,  the  old  woman  Dinah,  who  went  to  nurse  her, 
never  came  back  till  to-day;  that  is  the  reason  I  couldn't  hear 
any  more  news  until  to-night." 

"  Well,  well,  well  ?    Your  news !    Out  with  it,  girl !  " 

*'  My  lady,  she  is  dead  and  buried ! " 

"Who?" 

"  The  young  woman,  my  lady.  She  died  on  Saturday.  She 
was  buried  to-day. " 

Berenice  sank  back  on  the  sofa  and  covered  her  face  with 
her  hands.     So!  her  dangerous  rival  was  gone;  the  poor  un- 


THE    FORSAKEN    WIFE.  135 

kappy  girl  was  dead!  Berenice  was  jealous,  but  pitiful.  And 
slie  experienced  in  the  same  moment  a  sense  of  infinite  relief 
and  a  feeling  of  the  deepest  compassion. 

Neither  mistress  nor  maid  spoke  for  several  minutes.  The 
latter  was  the  first  to  break  silence. 

"My  lady!" 

"Well,  Phoebe?" 

"  There  was  something  else  I  had  to  tell  you." 

"What  was  it?" 

"  The  young  woman  left  a  child,  my  lady." 

"  A  child !  "  Again  Berenice  was  up  on  her  elbow,  her  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  speaker  and  blazing  with  eager  interest. 

"  It  is  a  boy,  my  lady ;  but  they  don't  think  it  will  live !  " 

"  A  boy !  He  shall  live !  He  is  mine — my  son  !  I  will  have 
him.  Since  his  mother  is  dead,  it  is  I  who  have  the  best  right 
to  him !  "  exclaimed  the  countess  vehemently,  rising  to  her  feet. 

The  maid  recoiled — she  thought  her  mistress  had  suddenly 
gone  mad. 

"Phoebe,"  said  the  countess  eagerly,  "what  is  the  hour?" 

"JSTearly  eleven,  my  lady." 

"Has  it  cleared  off?" 

"No,  my  lady;  it  has  come  on  to  rain  hard;  it  is  pouring." 

The  countess  went  to  the  windows  of  her  room,  but  they  were 
too  closely  shut  and  warmly  curtiiined  to  give  her  any  informa- 
tion as  to  the  state  of  the  weather  without.  Then  she  hurried 
impatiently  into  the  passage  where  the  one  end  window  re- 
mained with  its  shutters  still  unclosed,  aiad  she  looked  oiit. 
The  rain  was  lashing  the  glass  with  fury.  She  turned  away 
and  sought  her  own  room  again — complaining: 

"  Oh,  I  can  never  go  to-night !  It  is  too  late  and  too  stormy ! 
Mrs.  Brudenell  would  think  me  crazy,  and  the  woman  at  the 
hut  would  never  let  me  have  my  son.  Yet,  oh!  what  would  I 
not  give  to  have  him  on  my  bosom  to-night,"  said  Berenice, 
pacing  feverishly  about  the  room. 

''My  lady,"  said  the  maid  uneasily,  "I  don't  think  you  are 
well  at  all  this  evening.  Won't  you  let  me  give  you  some  sal- 
volatile  ? " 

"■  No,  I  don't  want  any ! "  replied  the  countess,  without  stop- 
ping in  her  restless  walk. 

"  But,  my  lady,  indeed  you  are  not  well ! "  persisted  the 
affectionate  creature. 

"No,  I  am  not  well,  Phoebe!    My  heart  is  sore,  sore,  Phoebe! 


136  ishmael;  oe,  in  the  depths. 

But  that  cliild  would  be  a  balm  to  it !  If  I  could  press  my  son 
to  my  bosom,  Phoebe,  he  would  draw  out  all  the  fire  and  pain ! " 

"  But,  my  lady,  he  is  not  your  son ! "  said  the  maid,  with 
tears  of  alarm  starting  in  her  eyes. 

"  He  is,  girl !  'Now  that  his  mother  is  dead  he  is  mine !  Who 
has  a  better  right  to  him  than  I,  I  wonder?     His  mother  is 

gone!  his  father "     Here  the  countess  suddenly  recollected. 

herself,  and  as  she  looked  into  her  maid's  astonished  face  she 
felt  how  far  apart  were  the  ideas  of  the  Jewish  matron  and  the 
Christian  maiden.  She  controlled  her  emotion,  took  her  seat, 
and  said : 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,  Phoebe.  I  am  only  a  little  nervous  to- 
night, my  girl.  And  I  want  something  more  satisfactory  than 
a  little  dog  to  pet." 

"  I  don't  think,  my  lady,  you  could  get  anything  in  the  world 
more  grateful,  or  more  faithful,  or  more  easy  to  manage,  than 
a  little  dog.  Certainly  not  a  baby.  Babies  is  awful,  my  lady. 
They  aint  got  a  bit  of  gratitude  or  faithfulness  in  them;  and 
after  you  have  toted  them  about  all  day,  you  may  tote  them 
about  all  night.  And  then  they  are  bawling  from  the  first  day 
of  January  until  the  thirty-first  day  of  December.  Take  my 
advice,  my  lady,  and  stick  to  the  little  dogs,  and  let  babies 
alone,  if  you  love  your  peace." 

The  countess  smiled  faintly  and  kept  silence.  But — she  kept 
her  resolution  also. 

The  last  words  thq.t  night  spoken  after  she  was  in  bed,  and 
when  she  was  about  to  dismiss  her  maid,  were  these: 

"  Phoebe,  mind  that  you  are  not  to  say  one  word  to  any 
human  being  of  the  subject  of  our  conversation  to-night.  But 
you  are  to  call  me  at  eight  o'clock,  have  my  breakfast  brought 
to  me  here  at  half-past  eight,  and  the  carriage  at  the  door  at 
nine.    Do  you  hear  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  lady,"  answered  the  girl,  who  immediately  went  to 
the  small  room  adjoining  her  mistress'  chamber,  where  she 
usually  sat  by  day  and  slept  by  night. 

The  countess  could  only  sleep  in  perfect  darkness;  so  when 
Phcebe  had  put  out  all  the  lights  she  took  advantage  of  that 
darkness  to  leave  her  door  open,  so  that  she  could  listen  if  her 
mistress  was  restless  or  wakeful.  The  maid  soon  discovered 
that  her  mistress  was  wakeful  and  restless. 

The  countess  could  not  sleep  for  contemplating  her  project 
of  the  morning.    According  to  her  Jewish  ideas,  the  motherless 


THE    FOESAKEN"    WIFE.  137 

son  of  her  husband  was  as  much  hers  as  though  she  had  brought 
him  into  the  world.  And  thus  she,  poor,  unloved  and  childless 
wife,  was  delighted  with  the  son  that  she  thought  had  dropped 
from  heaven  into  her  arms. 

That  anyone  should  venture  to  raise  the  slightest  objection 
to  her  taking  possession  of  her  own  son  never  entered  the 
mind  of  Berenice.  She  imagined  that  even  Mrs.  Brudenell, 
who  had  treated  the  mother  with  the  utmost  scorn  and  con- 
tumely, must  turn  to  the  son  with  satisfaction  and  desire. 

In  cautioning  Phoebe  to  secrecy  she  had  not  done  so  in  dread 
of  opposition  from  any  quarter,  but  with  the  design  of  giving 
Mrs.  Brudenell  a  pleasant  surprise. 

She  intended  to  go  out  in  the  morning  as  if  for  a  drive,  to 
go  to  the  hut,  take  possession  of  the  boy,  bring  him  home  and 
lay  him  in  his  grandmother's  lap.  And  she  anticipated  for  her 
reward  her  child's  affection,  her  husband's  love,  and  her  mother's 
cordial  approval. 

Full  of  excitement  from  these  thoughts,  Berenice  could  not 
sleep ;  but  tossed  from  side  to  side  in  her  bed  like  one  suffering 
from  pain  or  fever. 

Her  faithful  attendant,  who  had  loved  her  mistress  well 
enough  to  leave  home  and  country  and  follow  her  across  the 
seas  to  the  Western  World,  lay  awake  anxiously  listening  to 
her  restless  motions  until  near  morning,  when,  overcome  by 
watching,  she  fell  asleep. 

The  maid,  who  had  been  the  first  to  close  her  eyes,  was  the 
first  to  open  them.  Remembering  her  mistress'  order  to  be 
called  at  eight  o'clock,  she  sprang  out  of  bed  and  looked  at  her 
watch.  To  her  consternation  she  found  that  it  was  half -past 
nine. 

She  flew  to  her  mistress'  room  and  threw  open  the  blinds, 
letting  in  a  flood  of  morning  light. 

And  then  she  went  to  the  bedside  and  drew  back  the  curtains 
and  looked  upon  the  face  of  the  sleeper.  Such  a  pale,  sad,  worn- 
looking  face!  with  the  full  lips  closed,  the  long  black  lashes 
lying  on  the  waxen  cheeks,  the  slender  black  brows  slightly 
contracted,  and  the  long  purplish  black  hair  flowing  down  each 
side  and  resting  upon  the  swelling  bosom;  her  arms  were 
thrown  up  over  the  pillow,  and  her  hands  clasped  over  her 
head.  This  attitude  added  to  the  utter  sadness  and  weariness 
of  her  aspect. 

Phoebe  slowly  shook  her  head,  murmuring: 


138      ishmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

"I  can't  tMnk  why  a  lady  having  beauty  and  wealth  and 
rank  should  break  her  heart  about  any  scamp  of  a  man !  Why 
couldn't  she  have  purchased  an  estate  with  her  money  and  set- 
tled down  in  Old  England?  And  if  she  must  have  married, 
why  didn't  she  marry  the  marquis?  Lack-a-daisy-me !  I  wish 
she  had  never  seen  this  young  scamp!  She  didn't  sleep  the 
whole  night !  I  know  it  was  after  four  o'clock  in  the  morning 
that  I  dropped  off,  and  the  last  thing  I  knew  was  trying  to  keep 
awake  and  listen  to  her  tossing!  Well,  whatever  her  appoint- 
ment was  this  morning,  she  has  missed  it  by  a  good  hour  and  a 
half;  that  she  has,  and  I'm  glad  of  it.  Sleep  is  the  best  part 
of  life,  and  there  isn't  anything  in  this  world  worth  waking  up 
for,  as  I've  found  out  yet !  Let  her  sleep  on ;  she's  dead  for  it, 
anyway.    So  let  her  sleep  on,  and  I'll  take  the  blame." 

And  with  this  the  judicious  Phcebe  carefully  drew  the  bed 
curtains  again,  closed  the  window  shutters,  and  withdrew  to 
her  own  room  to  complete  her  toilet. 

After  a  little  while  Phoebe  went  below  to  get  her  breakfast, 
which  she  always  took  in  the  housekeeper's  room. 

Mrs.  Spicer  had  breakfasted  long  before,  and  so  she  met  the 
girl  with  a  sharp  rebuke  for  keeping  late  hours. 

"  Pray,"  she  inquired  mockingly,  "  is  it  the  fashion  in  the 
country  you  came  from  for  servants  to  be  abed  until  ten  o'clock 
in  the  morning  ?  " 

*'  That  depends  on  circumstances,"  answered  Phoebe,  with 
assumed  gravity ;  "  the  servants  of  noble  families  like  the 
Countess  of  Hufstmonceux's  lie  late;  but  the  servants  of  com- 
mon folks  like  yours  have  to  get  up  early." 

*'  Like  ours,  you  impudent  minx !  I'll  have  you  to  know 
that  our  family — the  Brudenells — are  as  good  as  any  other 
family  in  the  world!  But  it  is  not  the  custom  here  for  the 
m.aids  to  lie  in  bed  until  all  hours  of  the  morning,  and  that 
you'll  find ! "  cried  Mrs.  Spicer  in  a  passion. 

*'  You'll  find  yourself  discharged  if  you  go  on  in  this  way ! 
You  seem  to  forget  that  my  ladj  is  the  mistress  of  this  house," 
said  Phoebe,  seating  herself  at  the  table,  which  was  covered 
with  the  litter  of  the  housekeeper's  breakfast. 

Before  the  housekeeper  had  time  to  reply,  or  the  lady's  maid 
had  time  to  pour  out  her  cold  coffee,  the  drawing-room,  bell 
rang.  And  soon  after  Jovial  ent-ered  to  say  that  Mrs.  Bru- 
denell  required  the  attendance  of  Phoebe.  The  girl  rose  at 
once  and  went  up  to  the  drawing  room. 


THE   rOESAKEN    WIFE.  139 

"  How  Is  tlie  countess  this  morning  ? "  was  the  first  question 
of  Mrs.  Brudenell. 

"My  lady  is  sleeping;  she  has  had  a  bad  night;  I  thought  it 
best  not  to  awake  her,"  answered  Phoebe. 

"  You  did  right.  Let  me  know  when  she  is  awake  and  ready 
to  receive  me.     You  may  go  now." 

Phoebe  returned  to  her  cold  and  comfortless  brealcfast,  and 
had  but  just  finished  it  when  a  second  bell  rang.  This  time  it 
■was  her  mistress,  and  she  hurried  to  answer  it. 

The  countess  was  already  in  her  dressing-gown  and  slippers, 
seated  before  her  toilet-table,  and  holding  a  watch  in  her  hand. 

"  Oh,  Phoebe,"  she  exclaimed,  "  how  could  you  have  disobeyed 
me  so !    It  is  after  ten  o'clock !  " 

"  My  lady,  I  will  tell  you  the  truth.  You  were  so  restless  last 
night  that  you  could  not  sleep,  and  I  was  so  anxious  for  fear 
you  were  going  to  be  ill,  that  indeed  I  could  not.  And  so  I  lay 
awake  listening  at  you  till  after  four  o'clock  this  morning,  when 
I  dropped  off  out  of  sheer  exhaustion,  and  so  I  overslept  my- 
self until  haK-past  nine;  and  then  my  lady,  I  thought,  as  you 
had  had  such  a  bad  night,  and  as  it  was  too  late  for  you  to  keep 
your  appointment  with  yourself,  and  as  you  were  sleeping  so 
finely,  I  had  better  not  wake  you.  I  beg  your  pardon,  my  lady, 
if  I  did  wrong,  and  I  hope  no  harm  has  been  done." 

"Not  much  harm,  Phoebe;  but  something  that  should  have 
been  finished  by  this  time  is  yet  to  begin — that  is  all.  In  fu- 
ture, Phoebe,  try  to  obey  me." 

"  Indeed  I  will,  my  lady." 

"  And  now  do  my  hair  as  quickly  as  possible." 

Phoebe's  nimble  fingers  soon  accomplished  their  tas^ 

"And  now  go  order  the  carriag©  to  come  round  directly; 
and  then  bring  me  a  cup  of  coffee,"  said  the  lady,  rising  to  ad- 
just her  own  dress. 

Phoebe  hurried  off  to  obey,  and  soon  returned,  bringing  a  deli- 
cate little  breakfast  served  on  a  tray. 

By  the  time  the  countess  had  drunk  the  coffee  and  tasted  the 
rice  waffles  and  broiled  partridge,  the  carriage  was  announced. 

Mrs.  Brudenell  met  her  in  the  lower  hall. 

"  Ah,  Berenice,  my  dear,  I  am  glad  to  see  that  you  are  going 
for  an  airing  at  last.  The  morning  is  beautiful  after  the 
storm,"  she  said. 

"Yes,  manuna,"  replied  the  countess,  rather  avoiding  the 
interview. 


140  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

"  Which  way  will  you  drive,  my  dear  ?  " 

"  I  think  through  the  valley ;  it  is  sheltered  from  the  wind 
there.    Good-morning !  " 

And  the  lady  entered  the  carriage  and  gave  her  order. 

The  carriage  road  through  the  valley  was  necessarily  much 
longer  and  more  circuitous  than  the  footpath  with  which  we 
are  so  familiar.  The  footpath,  we  know,  went  straight  down 
the  steep  precipice  of  Brudenell  hill,  across  the  bottom,  and 
then  straight  up  the  equally  steep  ascent  of  Hut  hill.  Of  course 
this  route  was  impracticable  for  any  wheeled  vehicle.  The 
carriage  therefore  turned  off  to  the  left  into  a  road  that  wound 
gradually  down  the  hillside  and  as  gradually  ascended  the  oppo- 
site heights.  The  carriage  drew  up  at  a  short  distance  from 
the  hut,  and  the  countess  alighted  and  walked  to  the  door.  We 
have  seen  what  a  surprise  her  arrival  caused,  and  now  we  must 
return  to  the  interview  between  the  wife  of  Herman  and  the 
sister  of  iNora, 

CHAPTER  XVn. 

THE  COUNTESS  AND  THE  CHILD. 

With  no  misgiving  thought  or  doubt 
Her  fond  arms  clasped  his  child  about 
In  the  full  mantle  of  her  love; 

For  who  so  loves  the  darling  flowers 

Must  love  the  bloom  of  human  bowers, 
The  types  of  brightest  things  above. 
One  day— one  sunny  winter  day — 

She  pressed  it  to  her  tender  breast; 
The  sunshine  of  its  head  there  lay 

As  pillowed  on  its  native  rest. 

— Thomas  Buchanan  Beed. 

Lady  Hurstmonceux  and  Hannah  Worth  sat  opposite  each 
other  in  silence.  The  lady  with  her  eyes  fixed  thoughtfully  on 
the  floor — ^Hannah  waiting  for  the  visitor  to  disclose  the  object 
of  her  visit. 

Reuben  Gray  had  retired  to  the  farthest  end  of  the  room, 
in  delicate  respect  to  the  lady;  but  finding  that  she  continued 
silent,  it  at  last  dawned  upon  his  mind  that  his  absence  was 
desirable.     So  he  came  forward  with  awkward  courtesy,  saying : 

"Hannah,  I  think  the  lady  would  like  to  be  alone  with  you; 
so  I  will  bid  you  good-day,  and  come  again  to-morrow." 

"  Very  well,  Reuben,"  was  all  that  the  woman  could  answer 
in  the  presence  of  a  third  person. 


THE    COUITTESS    AND    THE    CHILD.  14i 

And  after  shaking  Hannah's  hand,  and  pulling  his  forelock 
to  the  visitor,  the  man  went  away. 

As  soon  as  he  was  clearly  gone  the  countess  turned  to  the 
weaver  and  said: 

"  Hannah — your  name  is  Hannah,  I  think  ?  " 

"Yes,  madam." 

"  Well,  Hannah,  I  have  come  to  thank  you  for  your  tender 
care  of  my  son,  and  to  relieve  you  of  him !  "  said  the  countess. 

"  Madam ! "  exclaimed  the  amazed  woman,  staring  point- 
blank  at  the  visitor. 

"  Why,  what  is  the  matter,  girl  ?  What  have  I  said  that  you 
should  glare  at  me  in  that  way  ?  "  petulantly  demanded  the  lady. 

"Madam,  you  astonish  me!  Your  son  is  not  here.  I  know 
nothing  about  your  son;  not  even  that  you  had  a  son,"  replied 
Hannah. 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  said  the  lady,  with  a  faint  smile ;  "  you  are  angry 
"because  I  have  left  him  on  your  hands  so  many  days.  That 
is  pardonable  in  you.  But,  you  see,  my  girl,  it  was  not  my 
fault.  I  never  even  heard  of  the  little  fellow's  existence  until 
late  last  night.  I  could  not  sleep  for  thinking  of  him.  And 
I  came  here  as  soon  as  I  had  had  my  breakfast." 

"  Madam,  can  a  lady  have  a  son  and  not  know  it  ? "  exclaimed 
Hannah,  her  amazement  fast  rising  to  alarm,  for  she  was  be- 
ginning to  suppose  her  visitor  a  maniac  escaped  from  Bedlam. 

"N'onsense,  Hannah;  do  not  be  so  hard  to  propitiate,  my 
good  woman!  I  have  explained  to  you  how  it  happened!  I 
came  as  soon  as  I  could!  I  am  willing  to  reward  you  liberally 
for  all  the  trouble  you  have  had  with  him.  So  now  show  me 
my  son,  there's  a  good  soul." 

"Poor  thing!  poor,  poor  thing!  so  young  and  so  perfectly 
crazy !  "  muttered  Hannah,  looking  at  the  countess  with  blended 
pity  and  fear. 

"  Come,  Hannah,  show  me  my  son,  and  have  done  with  this !  " 
said  the  visitor,  rising. 

"  Don't,  my  lady;  don't  go  on  in  this  way;  you  know  you  have 
no  son ;  be  good,  now,  and  tell  me  if  you  really  are  the  Countess 
of  Hurstmonceux ;  or  if  not,  tell  me  who  you  are,  and  where  you 
live,  and  let  me  take  you  back  to  your  friends,"  pleaded  Han- 
nah, taking  her  visitor  by  the  hands. 

"  Oh,  there  he  is  now ! "  exclaimed  the  countess,  shaking 
Hannah  off,  and  going  towards  the  bed  where  she  saw  the  babe 
lying. 


142  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

Hannah  sprang  after  her,  clasped  her  around  the  waist,  and 
holding  her  tightly,  cried  out  in  terror: 

"  Don't,  my  lady !  for  Heaven  s  sake,  don't  hurt  the  child ! 
He  is  such  a  poor  little  mite;  he  cannot  live  many  days;  he 
must  die ;  and  it  will  be  a  great  blessing  that  he  does ;  but  still, 
for  all  that,  I  mustn't  see  him  killed  before  my  very  face.  No, 
you  shan't,  my  lady!  you  shan't  go  anigh  him!  You  shan't, 
indeed !  "  exclaimed  Hannah,  as  the  countess  struggled  once  to 
free  herself. 

"  How  dare  you  hold  me  ? "  exclaimed  Berenice. 

"  Because  I  am  strong  enough  to  do  so,  my  lady,  without  your 
leave!  And  because  you  are  not  yourself,  my  lady,  and  you 
m.ight  kill  the  child,"  said  Hannah  resolutely  enough,  though, 
to  tell  the  truth,  she  was  frightened  almost  out  of  her  senses. 

"  JSTot  myself  ?  Are  you  crazy,  woman  ? "  indignantly  de- 
manded Berenice. 

"  'No,  ray  lady,  but  you  are !  Oh,  do  try  to  compose  your 
mind,  or  you  may  do  yourself  a  mischief !  "  pleaded  Hannah. 

Berenice  suddenly  ceased  to  struggle,  and  became  perfectly 
quiet.  Hannah  was  resolved  not  to  be  deceived,  and  held  her 
firmly  as  ever. 

"  Hannah,"  said  the  countess,  "  I  begin  to  see  how  it  is  that 
you  think  me  mad.  You,  a  Christian  maid,  and  I,  a  Jewish, 
matron,  do  not  understand  each  other.  We  think,  and  look, 
and  speak  from  different  points  of  view.  You  think  I  mean  to 
say  that  the  child  upon  the  bed  is  tJie  son  of  my  own  bosom ! " 

"  You  said  so,  my  lady." 

"No,  I  said  he  was  my  son — I  meant  my  son  by  marriage 
and  by  adoption." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,  madam." 

"  Well,  I  fear  you  don't.  I  will  try  to  explain.  He  is  " — 
the  lady's  voice  faltered  and  broke  down — "  he  is  my  husband's 
son,  and  so,  his  mother  being  dead,  he  becomes  mine,"  breathed 
Berenice,  in  a  faint  voice. 

"  Madam !  "  exclaimed  Hannah,  drawing  back  and  reddening 
to  the  very  edge  of  her  hair. 

"  He  is  the  son  of  Herman  Brudenell,  and  so " 

"  My  lady !  how  dare  you  say  such  a  thing  as  that  ? "  fiercely 
interrupted  Hannah. 

"Because,  oh,  Heaven!  it  is  true,"  moaned  Berenice;  "it  ie 
true,  Hannah !    Would  to  the  Lord  it  were  not !  " 

"T^dy  Hurstmonceux " 


THE    COUNTESS    AND    THE    CHILD.  143 

"  Stop !  listen  to  me  first,  Hannah !  I  do  not  blame  your 
poor  sister.  Heaven  laaows  I  pitied  her  very  much,  and  did  all 
I  could  to  protect  her  the  night  she  came  to  Brudenell  Hall." 

"  I  know  you  did,  madam,"  said  Hannah,  her  heart  softening 
at  the  recollection  of  what  she  had  heard  of  the  countess'  share 
in  the  scene  between  Nora  and  Mi  v.  Brudenell. 

"  She  Ivnew  nothing  of  me  when  she  met  my  husband,  and 
she  could  not  help  loving  him  any  more  than  I  could — any 
m.ore  than  I  could,"  she  repeated  lowly  to  herself ;  "  and  so, 
though  it  wrings  my  heart  to  think  of  it,  I  cannot  blame  her, 
Hannah " 

"  My  lady,  you  have  no  right  to  blame  her,"  interrupted 
DSTora's  sister. 

"  1  know  it,"  meekly  replied  the  wronged  wife. 

"  You  have  no  right  to  blame  her,  because  she  was  perfectly 
blameless  in  the  sight  of  Heaven." 

Berenice  looked  up  in  sui'prise,  sighed  and  continued: 

"  However  that  may  be,  Hannah,  I  am  not  her  judge,  and 
do  not  presume  to  arraign  her.  May  she  rest  in  peace!  But 
her  child!  Herman's  child!  my  child!  It  is  of  him  I  wish  to 
speak !  Oh,  Hannah,  give  him  to  me !  I  want  him  so  much ! 
I  long  for  him  so  intensely!  My  heart  warms  to  him  so  ar- 
dently !  He  will  be  such  a  comfort,  such  a  blessing,  such  a  sal- 
vation to  me,  Hannah!  I  will  lore  him  so  well,  and  rear  him 
so  carefully,  and  make  him  so  happy !  I  will  educate  him,  pro- 
vide for  all  his  wants,  and  give  him  a  profession.     And  if  I 

am  never  reconciled  to  my  husband "    Here  again  her  voice 

faltered  and  broke  down;  but  after  a  dry  sob,  she  resumed: 
"  If  I  am  never  reconciled  to  my  husband,  I  will  make  his  son 
my  heir;  for  I  hold  all  my  large  property  in  my  own  right, 
Hannah!     Say,  will  you  give  me  my  husband's  son? " 

"  But,  my  lady " 

"  Ah,  do  not  refuse  me !  "  interrupted  the  countess.  "  I  am 
so  unhapxjy!  I  am  alone  in  the  world,  with  no  one  for  me  to 
love,  and  no  one  to  love  me !  " 

"  You  have  many  blessings,  madairu" 

"  I  have  rank  and  wealth  and  good  looks,  if  you  mean  them. 
But,  ah !  do  you  think  they  make  a   woman  happy  ?  " 

"  ISTo,  madam." 

"Listen,  Hannah!  My  i)oor  father  was  an  apostate  to  his 
faith.  My  nation  cast  me  off  for  being  his  daughter  and  for 
marrying   a   Christian.     My   parents   are   dead.     My    people 


144  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN   THE    DEPTHS. 

are  estranged.  My  husband  alienated.  But  still  I  have 
one  comfort  and  one  hope!  My  comfort  is — the — the  sim- 
ple existence  of  my  husband !  Yes,  Hannah !  alienated  as  he  is, 
it  is  a  comfort  to  me  to  know  that  he  lives.  If  it  were  not  for 
that,  I  myself  should  die!  Oh,  Hannah!  it  is  common  enough 
to  talk  of  being  willing  to  die  for  one  we  love!  It  is  easy  to 
die — much  easier  sometimes  than  to  live:  the  last  is  often  very 
hard!  I  will  do  more  than  die  for  my  love:  I  will  live  for 
him!  live  through  long  years  of  dreary  loneliness,  taking  my 
consolation  in  rearing  his  son,  if  you  will  give  me  the  boy, 
and  hoping  in  some  distant  future  for  his  return,  when  I  can 
present  his  boy  to  him,  and  say  to  him :  '  If  you  cannot  love  me 
for  my  owti  sake,  try  to  love  me  a  little  for  his ! '  Oh,  Hannah! 
do  not  dash  this  last  hope  from  me !  give  me  the  boy !  " 

Hannah  bent  her  Lead  in  painful  thought.  To  grant  Lady 
Hurstmonceux's  prayer  would  be  to  break  her  vow,  by  virtually 
acknowledging  the  parentage  of  Ishmael  and  betraying  Her- 
man Brudenell — and  without  effecting  any  real  good  to  the 
lady  or  the  child,  since  in  all  human  probability  the  child's 
hours  were  already  numbered. 

"  Hannah !  will  you  speak  to  me  ?  "  pleaded  Berenice. 

"Yes,  my  lady.  I  was  wishing  to  speak  to  you  all  along; 
but  you  would  not  give  me  a  chance.  If  you  had,  my  lady, 
you  would  not  have  been  compelled  to  talk  so  much.  I  wished 
to  ask  you  then  what  I  wish  to  ask  you  now :  What  reason  have 
you  for  thinking  and  speaking  so  ill  of  my  sister  as  you  do  ?  '* 

"I  do  not  blame  her;  I  told  you  so." 

"  You  cover  her  errors  with  a  veil  of  charity ;  that  is  what 
you  mean,  my  lady!  She  needs  no  such  veil!  My  sister  is  as 
innocent  as  :in  angel.     And  you,  my  lady,  are  mistaken." 

"  Mistaken  ?  as  to — to Oh,  Hannah !  how  am  I  mis- 
taken ? "  asked  the  countess,  with  sudden  eagerness,  perhaps 
with  sudden  hope. 

"If  you  will  compose  yourself,  my  lady,  and  come  and  sit 
down,  I  will  tell  you  the  truth,  as  I  have  told  it  to  everybody.'' 

Lady  Hurstmonceux  went  and  dropped  into  her  chair,  and 
gazed  at  Hannah  with  breathless  interest. 

Hannah  drew  another  forward  and  sat  down  opposite  to  the 
countess. 

"  I^ow  then,"  said  Berenice  eagerly. 

"  My  lady,  what  I  have  to  tell  is  soon  said.  My  sister  was 
buried  in  her  wedding-ring.     Her  son  was  bom  in  wedlock." 


THE    COUNTESS    AND    THE    CinLD.  145 

The  Countess  of  Ilurstmonceux  started  to  her  feet,  clasped 
her  hands  and  gazed  into  Hannah's  very  soul !  The  light  of  an 
infinite  joy  irradiated  her  face. 

"  Is  this  true  ?  "  she  exclaimed. 

"It  is  true." 

*'  Then  I  have  been  mistaken !  Oh,  how  widely  mistaken ! 
Thank  Heaven !     Oh,  thank  Heaven !  " 

And  the  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux  sank  back  in  her  chair, 
covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  and  burst  into  tears. 

Hannah  felt  very  uncomfortable;  her  conscience  reproached 
her;  she  was  self-implicated  in  a  deception;  and  this  to  one  of 
her  integrity  of  character  was  very  painful.  Literally,  she  had 
spoken  the  truth;  but  the  countess  had  drawn  false  inferences 
and  deceived  herself;  and  she  could  not  undeceive  her  without 
breaking  her  oath  to  Nora  and  betraying  Herman  Brudenell. 

Then  she  pitied  that  beautiful,  pale  woman  who  was  weeping 
so  violently.  And  she  arose  and  poured  out  the  last  of  poor 
iNora's  bottle  of  wine  and  brought  it  to  her,  saying: 

"  Drink  this,  my  lady,  and  try  and  compose  yourself." 

Berenice  drank  the  wine  and  thanked  the  woman,  and  then 
said: 

"  I  was  very  wrong  to  take  up  such  fancies  as  I  did ;  but  then 
you  do  not  know  how  strong  the  circumstances  were  that  led 
me  to  such  fancies.  I  am  glad  and  sorry  and  ashamed,  all  at 
once,  Hannah!  Glad  to  find  my  own  and  my  mother-in-law's 
suspicions  all  unfounded;  sorry  that  I  ever  entertained  them 
against  my  dear  husband ;  and  ashamed — ^bh,  how  much  ashamed 
— that  I  ever  betrayed  them  to  anyone." 

"You  were  seeking  to  do  him  a  service,  my  lady,  when  you 
did  so,"  said  Hannah  remorsefully  and  compassionately. 

"  Yes,  indeed  I  was !  And  then  I  was  not  quite  myself !  Oh, 
I  have  suffered  so  much  in  my  short  life,  Hannah !  And  I  met 
such  a  cruel  disappointment  on  my  arrival  here!  But  there  1 
I  am  talking  too  much  again !  Hannah,  I  entreat  you  to  forget 
all  that  I  have  said  to  you.  And  if  you  cannot  forget  it,  I 
implore  you  most  earnestly  never  to  repeat  it  to  anyone." 

"  I  will  not  indeed,  madam." 

The  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux  arose  and  walked  to  the  bed, 
turned  down  the  shawl  that  covered  the  sleeping  child,  and 
gazed  pitifully  upon  him.  Hannah  did  not  now  seek  to  pre- 
vent her. 

"Oh,  poor  little  fellow,  how  feeble  he  looks!     Hannah,  it 


146  isn]\iAEL;  or,  tn  the  depths. 

seems  such  a  pity  that  all  the  plans  I  formed  for  his  future 
welfare  should  be  lost  because  he  is  not  what  I  supposed  him 
to  be;  it  seems  hard  that  the  revelation  which  has  made  me 
happy  should  make  him  unfortunate;  or,  rather,  that  it  should 
prevent  his  good  fortune !  And  it  shall  not  do  so  entirely.  It 
is  true,  I  cannot  now  adopt  him, — the  child  of  a  stranger,-"* 
and  take  him  home  and  rear  him  as  my  own,  as  I  should  have 
done  had  he  been  what  I  fancied  him  to  be.  Because  it  might 
not  be  right,  you  know,  and  my  husband  might  rot  approve  it. 
And,  oh,  Hannah,  I  have  grovsm  so  timid  lately  that  I  dread!, 
I  dread  more  than  you  can  imagine,  to  do  anything  that  h© 
might  not  like.  IsTot  that  he  is  a  domestic  tyrant  either.  Yois 
liave  lived  on  his  estate  long  enough  to  know  that  Herman  Bna- 
denell  is  all  that  is  good  and  kind.  But  then  you  see  I  am  ail 
wrong — and  always  was  so.  Everything  I  do  is  ill  done — and 
always  so.  It  is  all  my  own  fault,  and  I  must  try  to  amend  it, 
if  ever  I  am  to  hope  for  happiness.  So  I  must  not  do  anything 
unless  I  anx  sure  that  it  will  not  displease  him,  therefore  % 
must  not  take  this  child  of  a  stranger  home,  and  rear  him  as  ro;^ 
own.  But  I  will  do  all  that  I  can  for  him  here.  At  present  hia 
little  wants  are  all  physical.  Take  this  purse,  dear  woman,  aaul 
make  him  as  comfortable  as  you  can.  I  think  he  ought  to  hav© 
medical  attendance;  procure  it  for  him;  get  everything  ha 
needs;  and  when  the  purse  is  empty  bring  it  to  me  to  be  re- 
plenished. So  much  for  the  present.  If  he  lives  I  will  pay  fo? 
his  schooling,  and  see  that  he  is  apprenticed  to  some  good  mas- 
ter to  learn  a  trade." 

And  with  these  words  the  countess  held  out  a  well-filled  purstt 
to  Hannah. 

With  a  deep  blush  Hannah  shook  her  head  and  put  the 
offered  bounty  back,  saying: 

"  No,  my  lady,  no.  Nora's  child  must  not  become  the  object 
of  your  charity.  It  will  not  do.  My  nephew's  wants  are  few, 
and  will  not  be  felt  long;  I  can  supply  them  all  while  he  lives, 
I  thank  you  all  the  same,  madam." 

Berenice  looked  seriovisly  disappointed.  Again  she  pressed 
her  bounty  upon  Hannah,  saying: 

"  I  do  not  really  think  you  are  right  to  refuse  assistance  that 
is  proffered  to  this  poor  child." 

But  Hannah  was  firm  as  she  replied: 

"  I  know  that  I  am  right,  madam.  And  so  long  as  I  am  able 
and  willing  to  supply  all  his  wants  myself,  and  so  long  as  I  do 


THE    COUTfTESS    AISTD    THE    CHILD.  147 

supply  them,  I  do  liim  no  injury  in  refusing  for  him  the  help 
of  others." 

"  But  do  you  have  to  supply  all  his  wants  ?  I  suppose  that 
his  father  must  be  a  poor  man,  but  is  he  so  poor  as  not  to  be 
able  to  render  you  some  assistance?" 

Hannah  paused  a  moment  in  thought  before  answering  this 
question,  then  she  said: 

"  His  father  is  dead,  my  lady."  (Dead  to  him  was  her  mental 
reservation.) 

"  Poor  orphan,"  sighed  the  countess,  with  the  tears  springing 
to  her  eyes ;  "  and  you  will  not  let  me  do  anything  for  him  ? " 

"  I  prefer  to  take  care  of  him  mj^self,  madam,  for  the  short 
time  that  he  will  need  care,"  replied  Hannah. 

"  Well,  then,"  sighed  the  lady,  as  she  restored  her  purse  to 
her  pocket,  "  remember  this — if  from  any  circumstances  what- 
ever you  should  change  your  mind,  and  be  willing  to  accept 
my  protection  for  this  child,  come  to  me  frankly,  and  you  will 
find  that  I  have  not  changed  my  mind.  I  shall  always  be  glad 
to  do  anything  in  my  power  for  this  poor  babe." 

"  I  thank  you,  my  lady ;  I  thank  you  very  much,"  said  Han- 
nah, without  committing  herself  to  any  promise. 

What  instinct  was  it  that  impelled  the  countess  to  stoop  and 
kiss  the  brow  of  the  sleeping  babe,  and  then  to  catch  him  up 
and  press  him  fondly  to  her  heart?     Who  can  tell? 

The  action  awoke  the  infant,  who  opened  his  large  blue  eyes 
to  the  gaze  of  the  lady. 

"Hannah,  you  need  not  think  this  boy  is  going  to  die.  He 
is  only  a  skeleton;  but  in  his  strong,  bright  eyes  there  is  no 
sign  of  death — but  certainty  of  life!  Take  the  word  of  one 
who  has  the  blood  of  a  Hebrew  prophetess  in  her  veins  for 
that !  "  said  Berenice,  with  solemnity. 

"It  will  be  as  the  Lord  wills,  my  lady,"  Hannah  reverently 
replied. 

The  countess  laid  the  infant  back  upon  the  bed  and  then 
drew  her  sable  cloak  around  her  shoulders,  shook  hands  with 
Hannah,  and  departed. 

Hannah  Worth  stood  looking  after  the  lady  for  some  little 
space  of  time.  Hannah  was  an  accurate  reader  of  character, 
and  she  had  seen  at  the  first  glance  that  this  pale,  sad,  but 
most  beautiful  woman  could  not  be  the  bad,  artful,  deceitful 
creature  that  her  husband  had  been  led  to  believe  and  to  repre- 
sent her.     And  she  wondered  what  mistake  it  could  possibly 


148  ISHMAEL,*    OR,  LN   THE    DEPTHS. 

Lave  been  that  had  estranged  Herman  Brudenell  from  his 
lovely  wife  and  left  his  heart  vacant  for  the  reception  of  an- 
other and  a  most  fatal  passion. 

"  Whatever  it  may  have  been,  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  it. 
I  pity  the  gentle  lady,  but  I  cannot  accept  her  bounty  for 
Nora's  child,"  said  Hannah,  dismissing  the  subject  from  her 
thoughts  and  returning  to  her  work. 

In  this  manner,  from  one  plausible  motive  or  another,  was  all 
help  rejected  for  the  orphan  boy. 

It  seemed  as  if  Providence  were  resolved  to  cast  the  infant 
helpless  upon  life,  to  show  the  world  what  a  poor  boy  might 
make  of  himself,  by  God's  blessing  on  his  own  unaided  efforts  I 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

BERENICE. 

Her  cheeks  grew  pale  and  dim  her  eye, 
Her  voice  was  low,  her  mirth  was  stay'd; 

Upon  her  heart  there  seemed  to  lie 
The  darkness  of  a  nameless  shade; 

She  paced  the  house  from  room  to  room, 
Her  form  became  a  walking  gloom. 

— Read. 

It  was  yet  early  in  the  afternoon  when  Berenice  reached 
Brudenell  Hall. 

Before  going  to  her  own  apartments  she  looked  into  the 
drawing  room,  and  seeing  Mrs.  Brudenell,  inquired: 

"Any  news  of  Herman  yet,  mamma,  dear?" 

"  No,  love,  not  yet.    You've  had  a  pleasant  drive,  Berenice  ?  '^ 

"  Very  pleasant." 

"  I  thought  so ;  you  have  more  color  than  when  you  went. 
You  should  go  out  every  morning,  my  dear." 

"  Yes,  mamma,"  said  the  young  lady,  hurrying  away. 

Mrs.  Brudenell  recalled  her. 

"  Come  in  here,  if  you  please,  my  love ;  I  want  to  have  a  little 
conversation  with  you." 

Berenice  threw  her  bonnet,  cloak,  and  muff  upon  the  hall 
table  and  entered  the  drawing  room. 

Mrs.  Brudenell  was  alone;  her  daughters  had  not  yet  come 
down ;  she  beckoned  her  son's  wife  to  take  the  seat  on  the  sofa 
by  her  side. 


BEEEKICE.  149 

And  wlien  Berenice  had  complied  she  said: 

"  It  is  of  yourself  and  Herman  that  I  wish  to  speak  to  you, 
my  dear." 

"  Yes,  mamma." 

The  lady  hesitated,  and  then  suddenly  said : 

"  It  is  now  nearly  a  week  since  my  son  disappeared ;  he  left 
his  home  abruptly,  without  explanation,  in  the  dead  of  night, 
at  the  very  hour  of  your  arrival !    That  was  very  strange." 

"  Very  strange,"  echoed  the  unloved  wife. 

**  What  was  the  meaning  of  it,  Berenice  ? " 

"Indeed,  mamma,  I  do  not  know." 

*'  What,  then,  is  the  cause  of  his  absence  ?  " 

*'  Indeed,  indeed,  I  do  not  know." 

*'  Berenice !  he  fled  from  your  presence.  There  is  evidently 
some  misunderstanding  or  estrangement  between  yourself  and 
your  husband.  I  cannot  ask  him  for  an  explanation.  Hitherto 
I  have  forborne  to  ask  you.  But  now  that  a  week  has  passed 
without  any  tidings  of  my  son,  I  have  a  right  to  demand  the  ex- 
planation.    Give  it  to  me." 

"Mamma,  I  cannot;  for  I  know  no  more  than  yourself," 
answered  Berenice,  in  a  tone  of  distress. 

"  You  do  not  know ;  but  you  must  suspect.  iN'ow  what  do  you 
suspect  to  be  the  cause  of  his  going?" 

"  I  do  not  even  suspect,  mannna." 

"  What  do  you  conjecture,  then  ? "  persisted  the  lady. 

"  I  cannot  conjecture ;  I  am  all  lost  in  amazement,  mamma ; 
but  I  feel — I  feel — that  it  must  be  some  fault  in  myself,"  fal- 
tered Berenice. 

"What  fault?" 

"Ah,  there  again  I  am  lost  in  perplexity;  faults  I  have 
enough.  Heaven  knows;  but  what  particular  one  is  strong 
enough  to  estrange  my  husband  I  do  not  know,  I  cannot 
guess." 

"  Has  he  never  accused  you  ? " 

*'  Never,  mamma." 

*'  'Not  quarreled  with  you  ?  " 

"Never!" 

"  Nor  complained  of  you  at  all  ?  " 

"No,  marmna!  The  first  intimation  that  I  had  of  his  dis- 
pleasure was  given  me  the  night  of  my  arrival,  when  he  be- 
trayed some  annoyance  at  my  coming  upon  him  suddenly  with- 
out having  previously  written.     I  gave  him  what  I  supposed 


ioO  ismiAEL;  OE;  m  the  depths. 

to  be  sufficient  reasons  for  my  act — the  same  reasons  that  I 
afterwards  gave  you." 

"  They  were  perfectly  satisfactory.  And  even  if  they  had  not 
been  so,  it  was  no  just  cause  for  his  behavior.  Did  he  find 
fault  with  any  part  of  your  conduct  previous  to  your  arrival? " 

"ISTo,  mamma;  certainly  not.    I  have  told  you  so  before." 

"And  this  is  true?" 

"  As  true  as  Heaven,  mamma." 

"  Then  it  is  easy  to  fix  upon  the  cause  of  his  bad  con-duct. 
That  girl.  It  is  a  good  thing  she  is  dead,"  hissed  the  elder 
lady  between  her  teeth. 

She  spoke  in  a  tone  too  low  to  reach  the  ears  of  Berenice, 
W^ho  sat  with  her  weeping  face  buried  in  her  handkerchief. 

There  was  silence  for  a  little  while  between  the  ladies.  Bere- 
nice was  the  first  to  break  it,  by  asking : 

"  Mamma,  can  you  imagine  where  he  is  ?  " 

"  'No,  my  love !  And  if  I  do  not  feel  so  anxious  about  him  as 
you  feel,  it  is  because  I  know  him  better  than  you  do.  And  I 
know  that  it  is  some  unjustifiable  caprice  that  is  keeping  him 
from  his  home.  When  he  comes  to  his  senses  he  will  return.  In 
the  meanwhile,  we  must  not,  by  any  show  of  anxiety,  give  the 
servants  or  the  neighbors  any  cause  to  gossip  of  his  disap- 
pearance. And  I  must  not  have  my  plans  upset  by  his  whims. 
I  have  already  delayed  my  departure  for  Washington  longer 
than  I  like;  and  my  daughters  have  missed  the  great  ball  of 
the  season.  I  am  not  willing  to  remain  here  any  longer  at  all. 
And  I  think,  also,  that  we  shall  be  more  likely  to  meet  Herman 
by  going  to  town  than  by  staying  here.  Washington  is  the 
great  center  of  attraction  at  this  season  of  the  year.  Everyone 
goes  there.  I  have  a  pleasant  furnished  house  on  Lafayette 
Square.  It  has  been  quit©  ready  for  our  reception  for  the  last 
fortnight.  Some  of  our  servants  have  already  gone  up.  So, 
my  love,  I  have  fixed  our  departure  for  Saturday  morning,  if 
you  think  you  can  be  ready  by  that  time.  If  not,  I  can  wait  a 
day  or  two." 

" I  thank  you,  mamma;  I  thank  you  very  much;  but  pray  do 
not  inconvenience  yourself  on  my  account.  I  cannot  go  to 
town.  I  must  stay  here  and  wait  my  husband's  retiirn — if  he 
ever  returns,"  murmured  Berenice  to  herself. 

"  But  suppose  he  is  in  Washington  ?  " 

"  Still,  mamma,  as  he  has  HDt  invited  me  to  follow  him,  I 
prefer  to  stay  here." 


BERElSriCE.  151 

"But  surely,  cMd,  you  meed  no  invitation  to  follow  your 
husband,  wherever  he  may  be." 

"  Indeed  I  do,  mamma.  I  came  to  him  from  Europe  here, 
and  my  doing  so  displeased  him  and  drove  him  away  from  his 
home.  And  I  myself  would  return  to  my  native  country,  only, 
now  that  I  am  in  my  husband's  house,  I  feel  that  to  leave  it 
would  be  to  abandon  my  post  of  duty  and  expose  myself  to  just 
censure.  But  I  cannot  follow  him  farther,  mamma.  I  cannot! 
I  must  not  obtrude  myself  upon  his  presence.  I  must  remain 
here  and  pray  and  hope  for  his  return,"  sighed  the  poor  young 
wife. 

"  Berenice,  this  is  all  wrong;  you  are  morbid;  not  fit,  in  your 
present  state  of  mind,  to  guide  yourself.  Be  guided  by  rue. 
Come  with  me  to  Washington.  You  will  really  enjoy  yourself 
there — you  cannot  help  it.  Your  beauty  will  make  you  the 
reigning  belle;  your  taste  will  make  you  the  leader  of  fashion; 
^nd  your  title  will  constitute  you  the  lioness  of  the  season; 
for,  mark  you,  Berenice,  there  is  nothing,  not  even  the  '  al- 
mighty dollar,'  that  our  consistent  republicans  fall  down  and 
wox'ship  with  a  sincerer  homage  than  a  title !  All  your  combined 
attractions  will  make  you  whatever  you  please  to  be." 

"  Except  the  beloved  of  my  husband,"  murmured  Berenice, 
in  a  low  voice. 

"  That  also !  for,  believe  me,  my  dear,  many  men  admire  and 
love  through  other  men's  eyes.  My  son  is  one  of  the  many. 
IN^othing  in  this  world  would  bring  him.  to  your  side  so  quickly 
as  to  see  you  the  center  of  attraction  in  the  first  circles  of  the 
capital." 

"  Ah,  madam,  the  situation  would  lack  the  charm  of  novelty 
to  him;  he  has  been  accustomed  to  seeing  me  fill  similar  ones 
in  London  and  in  Paris,"  said  the  countess,  with  a  proud 
though  mournful  smile. 

Mrs.  Brudenell's  face  flushed  as  she  became  conscious  of 
having  made  a  blunder — a  thing  she  abhorred,  so  she  hastened 
to  say: 

"  Oh,  of  course,  my  dear,  I  know,  after  the  European  courts, 
our  republican  capital  must  seem  an  anti-clima:x !  Still,  it  is 
tiie  best  thing  I  can  offer  you,  and  I  counsel  you  to  accept  it." 

"I  feel  deeply  grateful  for  your  kindness,  mamma;  but  you 
know  I  could  not  enter  society,  except  under  the  auspices  of  my 
husband,"  replied  Berenice. 

"  You  can  enter  society  under  the  auspices  of  your  husband's 


152  ISHilAEL;    OE,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

mother,  tlie  very  best  chaperone  you  could  possibly  have,"  said 
the  lady  coldly. 

"  I  know  that,  mamma." 

"  Then  you  will  come  with  us  ?  " 

"  Excuse  me,  m.adam ;  indeed  I  am  not  thankless  of  your 
thought  of  me.  But  I  cannot  go;  for  even  if  I  had  the  spirits 
to  sustain  the  role  of  a  woman  of  fashion  in  the  gay  capital 
this  winter^  I  feel  that  in  doing  so  I  should  still  further  dis- 
please and  alienate  my  husband.  No,  I  must  remain  here  in 
retirement,  doing  what  good  I  can,  and  hoping  and  praying 
for  his  return,"  sighed  Berenice. 

Mrs.  Brudenell  hastily  rose  from  her  seat.  She  was  not  ac- 
customed to  opposition;  she  was  too  proud  to  plead  further; 
and  she  was  very  much  displeased  with  Berenice  for  disappoint- 
ing her  cherished  plan  of  introducing  her  daughter,  the  Count- 
ess of  Hurstmonceux,  to  the  circles  of  Washington. 

"  The  first  dinner  bell  has  rung  some  time  ago,  my  dear.  I 
•will  not  detain  you  longer.  Myself  and  daughters  leave  for  town 
on  Saturday." 

Berenice  bowed  gently,  and  went  upstairs  to  change  her 
dress  for  dinner. 

On  Saturday,  according  to  programme,  Mrs.  Brudenell  and 
lier  daughters  went  to  town,  traveling  in  their  capacious 
family  carriage,  and  Berenice  was  left  alone.  Yes,  she  was  left 
alone  to  a  solitude  of  heart  and  home  difficult  to  be  understood 
by  beloved  and  happy  wives  and  mothers.  The  strange,  wild 
country,  the  large,  empty  house,  the  grotesque  black  servants, 
were  enough  in  themselves  to  depress  the  spirits  and  sadden 
the  heart  of  the  young  English  lady.  Added  to  these  were 
the  deep  wounds  her  affections  had  received  by  the  contemptu- 
ous desertion  of  her  husband ;  there  was  uncertainty  of  his  fate, 
aud  keen  anxiety  for  his  safety;  and  the  slow,  wasting  soul- 
sickness  of  that  fruitless  hope  which  is  worse  than  despair. 

Every  morning,  on  rising  from  her  restless  bed,  she  would 
say  to  herself : 

"  Herman  will  return  or  I  shall  get  a  letter  from  him  to-day." 

Every  night,  on  sinking  upon  her  sleepless  pillow,  she  would 
eigh : 

"  Another  dreary  day  has  gone  and  no  news  of  Herman ! " 

Thus  in  feverish  expectation  the  days  crept  into  weeks.  And 
with  the  extension  of  time  l^ope  grew  more  strained,  tense, 
and  painful. 


BEKEmCE.  153 

<>fL  Monday  morning  slie  would  murmur: 

"  This  week  I  shall  surely  hear  from  Herman,  if  I  do  not 
see  him." 

And  every  Saturday  night  she  would  groan: 

"  Another  miserable  week,  and  no  tidings  of  my  husband." 

And  thus  the  weeks  slowly  crept  into  months. 

Mrs.  Brudenell  wrote  occasionally  to  say  that  Herman  was 
not  in  Washington,  and  to  ask  if  he  was  at  Brudenell.  That 
was  all.    The  answer  was  always,  "  ISTot  yet." 

Berenice  could  not  go  out  among  the  poor,  as  she  had  de- 
signed; for  in  that  wilderness  of  hill  and  valley,  wood  and 
water,  the  roads  even  in  the  best  weather  were  bad  enough — 
but  in  mid-winter  they  were  nearly  impassable  except  by  the 
hardiest  pedestrians,  the  roughest  horses,  and  the  strongest 
wagons.  Veiy  early  in  January  there  came  a  deep  snow,  fol- 
lowed by  a  sharp  frost,  and  then  by  a  warm  rain  and  thaw,  that 
converted  the  hills  into  seamed  and  guttered  precipices;  the 
Yalleys  into  pools  and  quagmires;  and  the  roads  into  ravines 
and  rivers — quite  impracticable  for  ordinary  passengers. 

Berenice  could  not  get  out  to  do  her  deeds  of  charity  among 
the  suffering  poor;  nor  could  the  landed  gentry  of  the  neigh- 
horhood  make  calls  upon  the  young  stranger.  And  thus  the 
unloved  wife  had  nothing  to  divert  her  thoughts  from  the  one 
all-absorbing  subject  of  her  husband's  unexplained  abandon- 
ment. The  fire  that  was  consuming  her  life — the  fire  of  "  rest- 
less, unsatisfied  longing" — burned  fiercely  in  her  cavernous 
•dark  eyes  and  the  hollow  crimson  cheeks,  lending  wildness  to 
the  beauty  of  that  face  which  it  was  slowly  burning  av/ay. 

As  spring  advanced  the  ground  improved.  The  hills  dried 
first.  And  every  day  the  poor  young  stranger  would  wander 
Tip  the  narrow  footpath  that  led  over  the  summit  of  the  hill  at 
the  back  of  the  house  and  down  to  a  stile  at  a  point  on  the  turn- 
pike that  commanded  a  wide  sweep  of  the  road.  And  there, 
leaning  on  the  rotary  cross,  she  would  watch  morbidly  for  the 
iorm  of  him  who  never  came  back. 

Gossip  was  busy  with  her  name,  asking,  Who  this  strange 
wife  of  Mr.  Brudenell  really  was?  Why  he  had  abandoned  her? 
And  why  Mrs.  Brudenell  had  left  the  house  for  good,  taking 
her  daughters  with  her?  There  were  some  uneducated  women 
among  the  wives  and  daughters  of  the  wealthy  planters,  and 
these  wished  to  know,  if  the  strange  young  woman  was  really 
the  wife  of  Herman  Brudenell,  why  she  was  called  Lady  Hurst- 


154  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

moncenx?  and  they  thought  that  looked  very  black  indeed  j 
until  they  were  laughed  at  and  enlightened  by  their  better  in- 
formed friends,  who  instructed  them  that  a  woman  once  a 
peeress  is  always  by  courtesy  a  peeress,  and  retains  her  own 
title  even  though  married  to  a  commoner. 

Upon  the  whole  the  planters'  wives  decided  to  call  upon  the- 
countess,  once  at  least,  to  satisfy  their  curiosity.  Afterwards- 
they  could  visit  or  drop  her  as  might  seem  expedient. 

Thus,  as  soon  as  the  roads  became  passable,  scarcely  a  day 
went  by  in  which  a  large,  lumbering  family  coach,  driven  by 
a  negro  coachman  and  attended  by  a  n^ro  groom  on  horse- 
back, did  not  arrive  at  Brudenell. 

To  one  and  all  of  these  callers  the  same  answer  was  re- 
turned : 

"  The  Countess  of  Hurstmonceiix  is  engaged,  and  cannot  re- 
ceive visitors." 

The  tables  were  turned.  The  country  ladies,  who  had  been 
debating  with  themselves  whether  to  "  take  up  "  or  "  drop  "  this 
very  questionable  stranger,  received  their  congee  from  the 
countess  herself  from  the  threshold  of  her  own  door.  The 
planters'  wives  were  stunned!  Each  was  a  native  queen,  in 
her  own  little  domain,  over  her  own  black  subjects,  and  to  meet 
with  a  repulse  from  a  foreign  countess  was  an  incomprehensi- 
ble thing! 

The  reverence  for  titled  foreigners,  for  which  we  republicans 
have  been  justly  laughed  at,  is  confined  exclusively  to  those- 
large  cities  corrupted  by  European  intercourse.  It  does  not 
exist  in  the  interior  of  the  country.  For  instance,  in  Maryland 
and  Virginia  the  owner  of  a  large  plantation  had  a  domain 
greater  in  territorial  extent,  and  a  power  over  his  subjects  more 
absolute,  than  that  of  any  reigning  grand-duke  or  sovereign 
prince  in  Germany  or  Italy.  The  planter  was  an  absolute 
monarch,  his  wife  was  his  queen-consort;  they  saw  no  equals 
and  knew  no  contradiction  in  their  own  realm.  Their  neigh- 
bors were  as  powerful  as  themselves.  When  they  met,  they  met 
as  peers  on  equal  terms,  the  only  precedence  being  that  given 
by  courtesy.  How,  then,  could  the  planter's  wife  appreciate 
the  dignity  of  a  countess,  who,  on  state  occasions,  must  walk 
behind  a  marchioness,  who  must  walk  behind  a  duchess,  who 
must  walk  behind  a  queen?  Thus  you  see  how  it  was  that  the 
sovereign  ladies  of  Maryland  thought  they  were  doing  a  very 
condescending  thing  in  calling  upon  the  young:  stranger  whose 


BEEENICE.  155 

husband  had  deserted  her,  and  whose  mother  and  sisters-in- 
law  had  left  her  alone;  and  that  her  ladyship  had  committed 
a  great  act  of  ill-breeding  and  impertinence  in  declining  their 
visits. 

At  the  close  of  the  Washington  season  Mrs.  Brudenell  and 
her  daughters  returned  to  the  Hall.  She  told  her  friends  that 
her  son  was  traveling  in  Europe;  but  she  told  her  daughter-in- 
law  that  she  only  hoped  he  was  doing  so ;  that  she  really  had  not 
heard  a  word  from  him,  and  did  not  know  anything  whatever 
of  his  whereabouts. 

Mrs.  Brudenell  and  her  daughters  received  and  paid  visits; 
gave  and  attended  parties,  and  made  the  house  and  the  neigh- 
borhood very  gay  in  the  pleasant  summer  time. 

Berenice  did  not  enter  into  any  of  these  amusements.  She 
never  accepted  an  invitation  to  go  out.  And  even  when  com- 
pany was  entertained  at  the  house  she  kept  her  own  suite  of 
rooms  and  had  her  meals  brought  to  her  there.  Mrs.  Brudenell 
was  excessively  displeased  at  a  course  of  conduct  in  her  daugh- 
ter-in-law that  would  naturally  give  rise  to  a  great  deal  of 
conjecture.  She  expostulated  with  Lady  Hurstmonceux ;  but 
to  no  good  purpose:  for  Berenice  shrunk  from  company,  reply- 
ing to  all  arguments  that  could  be  urged  upon  her: 

"  I  cannot — I  cannot  see  visitors,  mamma !  It  is  quite — • 
quite  impossible." 

And  then  Mrs.  Brudenell  made  a  resolution,  which  she  also 
kept — never  to  come  to  Brudenell  Hall  for  another  summer 
until  Herman  should  return  to  his  home  and  Berenice  to  her 
senses.  And  having  so  decided,  she  abridged  her  stay  and 
went  away  with  her  daughters  to  spend  the  remainder  of  the 
summer  at  some  pleasant  watering-place  in  the  Korth. 

And  Berenice  was  once  more  left  to  solitude. 

ISTow,  Lady  Hurstmonceux  was  not  naturally  cold,  or  proud, 
or  unsocial;  but  as  surely  as  brains  can  turn,  and  hearts  break, 
and  women  die  of  grief,  she  was  crazy,  heartbroken,  and  dying. 

She  turned  sick  at  the  sight  of  every  human  face,  because 
the  one  dear  face  she  loved  and  longed  for  w^as  not  near. 
The  pastor  of  the  parish,  with  the  benevolent  perseverence 
of  a  true  Christian,  continued  to  call  at  the  Hall  long  after 
every  other  human  creature  had  ceased  to  visit  the  place.  But 
Xady  Hurstmonceux  steadily  refused  to  receive  him. 

She  never  went  to  church.  Her  cherished  sorrow  grew 
morbid;  her  hopeless  hope  became  a  monomania;  her  life  nar- 


156  ishmael;  oe,  in  the  depths. 

rowed  down  to  one  mournful  routine.  She  went  nowhere  but 
to  the  turnstile  on  the  turnpike,  where  she  leaned  upon  the 
rotary  cross,  and  watched  the  road. 

Even  to  this  day  the  pale,  despairing,  but  most  beautiful 
face  of  that  young  watcher  is  remembered  in  that  neighbor- 
hood. 

Only  very  recently  a  lady  who  had  lived  in  that  vicinity  said 
to  me,  in  speaking  of  this  young  forsaken  wife — this  stranger 
in  our  land : 

"  Yes,  every  day  she  walked  slowly  up  that  narrow  path 
to  the  turnstile,  and  stood  leaning  on  the  cross  and  gazing 
up  the  road,  to  watch  for  him — every  day,  rain  or  shine;  in  all 
weathers  and  seasons;  for  months  and  years." 


CHAPTEE  XIX. 

nobody's  son. 

Not  blest?  not  saved?    Who  dares  to  doubt  all  well 
With  lioly  innocence  ?     We  scorn  the  creed 

And  tell  thee  truer  than  the  bigots  tell, — 
That  infants  all  are  Jesu's  lambs  indeed. 

—Martin  F.   Tupper, 

But  thou  wilt  burst  this  transient  sleep, 
And  thou  wilt  wake  my  babe  to  weep; 
The  tenant  of  a  frail  abode, 
Thy  tears  must  flow  as  mine  have  flowed: 
And  thou  may'st  live  perchance  to  prove 
The  pang  of  unrequited  love. 

— Byron. 

Ishmael  lived.  Poor,  thin,  pale,  sick;  sent  too  soon  Into  the 
world;  deprived  of  all  that  could  nurture  healthy  infant  life; 
fed  on  uncongenial  food;  exposed  in  that  bleak  hut  to  the 
piercing  cold  of  that  severe  winter;  tended  only  by  a  poor  old 
maid  who  honestly  wished  his  death  as  the  best  good  that  could 
happen  to  him — Ishmael  lived. 

One  day  it  occurred  to  Hannah  that  he  was  created  to  live. 
This  being  so,  and  Hannah  being  a  good  churchwoman,  she 
thought  she  would  have  him  baptized.  He  had  no  legal  name; 
but  that  was  no  reason  why  he  should  not  receive  a  Christian 
one.  The  cruel  human  law  discarded  him  as  nobody's  child; 
the  merciful  Christian  law  claimed  him  as  one  "  of  the  king- 
dom of  Heaven."  The  human  law  denied  him  a  name;  the 
Christian  law  offered  him  one. 

The  next  time  the  pastor  in  going  his  charitable  rounds 


nobody's  soit.  15T 

among  his  poor  parishioners,  called  at  the  hut,  the  weaver 
mentioned  the  subject  and  begged  him  to  baptize  the  boy  then 
and  there. 

But  the  reverend  gentleman,  who  was  a  high  churchman^ 
replied : 

"  I  will  cheerfully  administer  the  rites  of  baptism  to  the 
child;  but  you  must  bring  him  to  the  altar  to  receive  them. 
nSTothing  but  imminent  danger  of  death  can  justify  the  perform- 
ance of  those  sacred  rites  at  any  other  place.  Bring  the  boy 
to  church  next  Sabbath  afternoon." 

"What!  bring  this  child  to  church! — before  all  the  congre- 
gation !     I  should  die  of  mortification !  "  said  Hannah. 

"  Why  ?  Are  you  to  blame  for  what  has  happened  ?  Or  is 
he?  Even  if  the  boy  were  what  he  is  supposed  to  be, — the 
child  of  sin, — it  would  not  be  his  fault.  Do  you  think  in  all 
the  congregation  there  is  a  soul  whiter  than  that  of  this  child? 
Has  not  the  Saviour  said,  '  Suffer  little  children  to  come  unto 
me  and  forbid  them  not,  for  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  ? ' 
Bring  the  boy  to  church,  Hannah!  bring  the  boy  to  church," 
said  the  pastor,  as  he  took  up  his  hat  and  departed. 

Accordingly  the  next  Sabbath  afternoon  Hannah  Worth  took 
Ishmael  to  the  church,  which  was,  as  usual,  well  filled. 

Poor  Hannah!  Poor,  gentle-hearted,  pure-spirited  old 
maid!  She  sat  there  in  a  remote  corner  pew,  hiding  her  child 
tinder  her  shawl  and  hushing  him  with  gentle  caresses  during 
the  whole  of  the  afternoon  service.  And  when  after  the  last 
lesson  had  been  read  the  minister  came  down  to  the  font  and 
said :  "  Any  persons  present  having  children  to  offer  for  bap- 
tism will  now  bring  them  forward,"  Hannah  felt  as  if  she 
■would  faint.  But  summoning  all  her  resolution,  she  arose  and 
came  out  of  her  pew,  carrying  the  child.  Every  eye  in  the 
church  turned  full  upon  her.  There  was  no  harm  meant  in 
this ;  people  will  gaze  at  every  such  a  little  spectacle ;  a  baby  go- 
ing to  be  baptized,  if  nothing  else  is  to  be  had.  But  to  Han- 
nah's humbled  spirit  and  sinking  heart,  to  carry  that  child  up 
that  aisle  under  the  fire  of  those  eyes  seemed  like  running 
a  blockade  of  righteous  indignation  that  appeared  to  surround 
the  altar.  But  she  did  it.  With  downcast  looks  and  hesitating 
steps  she  approached  and  stood  at  the  font — alone — the  target 
of  every  pair  of  eyes  in  the  congregation.  Only  a  moment  she 
stood  thus,  when  a  countryman,  with  a  start,  left  one  of  the 
side  benches  and  came  and  stood  by  her  sidSt 


158  ishmael;  or,  nr  the  depths. 

It  was  Reuben  Gray,  who,  standing  by  her,  whispered: 

"  Hannah,  woman,  why  didn't  you  let  me  know  ?  I  would 
have  come  and  sat  in  the  pew  with  you  and  carried  the  child." 

"  Oh,  Reuben,  why  will  you  mix  yourself  up  with  me  and  my 
miseries  ?  "  sighed  Hannah. 

"  'Cause  we  are  one,  my  dear  woman,  and  so  I  can't  help  it," 
murmured  the  man. 

There  was  no  time  for  more  words.  The  minister  began  the 
services.  Reuben  Gray  offered  himself  as  sponsor  with  Hannah, 
who  had  no  right  to  refuse  this  sort  of  copartnership. 

The  child  was  christened  Ishmael  Worth,  thus  receiving  both 
given  and  surname  at  the  altar. 

When  the  afternoon  worship  was  concluded  and  they  left 
the  church,  Reuben  Gray  walked  beside  Hannah,  begging  for 
the  privilege  of  carrying  the  child — a  privilege  Hannah  grimly 
refused. 

Reuben,  undismayed,  walked  by  her  side  all  the  way  from 
Baymouth  church  to  the  hut  on  the  hill,  a  distance  of  three 
miles.  And  taking  advantage  of  that  long  walk,  he  pleaded  with 
Hannah  to  reconsider  her  refusal  and  to  become  his  wife. 

"  After  a  bit,  we  can  go  away  and  take  the  boy  with  us  and 
bring  him  up  as  our'n.  And  nobody  need  to  know  any  better," 
he  pleaded. 

But  this  also  Hannah  grimly  refused. 

When  they  reached  the  hut  she  turned  upon  him  and  said : 

"  Reuben  Gray,  I  will  bear  my  miseries  and  reproaches  my- 
self! I  will  bear  them  alone!  Your  duty  is  to  your  sisters. 
Go  to  them  and  forget  me."  And  so  saying  she  actually  shut 
the  door  in  his  face ! 

Reuben  went  away  crestfallen. 

But  Hannah!  poor  Hannah!  she  never  anticipated  the  full 
amount  of  misery  and  reproach  she  would  have  to  bear  alone! 

A  few  weeks  passed  and  the  money  she  had  saved  was  all 
spent.  ISTo  more  work  was  brought  to  her  to  do.  A  miserable 
consciousness  of  lost  caste  prevented  her  from  going  to  seek  it. 
She  did  not  dream  of  the  extent  of  her  misfortune;  she  did  not 
know  that  even  if  she  had  sought  work  from  her  old  employers, 
it  would  have  been  refused  her. 

One  day  when  the  Professor  of  Odd  Jobs  happened  to  be 
making  a  professional  tour  in  her  way,  and  called  at  the  hut 
to  see  if  his  services  might  be  required  there,  she  gave  him  a 
commission  to  seek  work  for  her  among  the  neighboring  far- 


nobody's  son.  159 

mers  and  planters — a  duty  that  the  professor  cheerfully  under- 
took. 

But  when  she  saw  him  again,  about  ten  days  after,  and  in- 
quired about  his  success  in  procuring  employment  for  her,  he 
shook  his  head,  saying: 

"  There's  a  plenty  of  weaving  waiting  to  be  done  everywhere. 
Miss  Hannah — which  it  stands  to  reason  there  would  be  at  this 
season  of  the  year.  There's  all  the  cotton  cloth  for  the  negroes' 
summer  clothes  to  be  wove;  but.  Miss  Hannah,  to  tell  you  the 
truth,  the  ladies  as  I've  mentioned  it  to  refuses  to  give  the  work 
to  you." 

"  But  why  ?  "  inquired  the  poor  woman,  in  alarm. 

"  Well,  Miss  Hannah,  because  of  what  has  happened,  you 
know.  The  world  is  very  unjust.  Miss  Hannah!  And  women 
are  more  unjust  than  men.  If  '  man's  inhumanity  to  man 
makes  countless  thousands  mourn,'  I'm  sure  women's  cruelty 
to  women  makes  angels  weep !  "  And  here  the  professor,  hav- 
ing lighted  upon  a  high-toned  subject  and  a  helpless  hearer, 
launched  into  a  long  oration  I  have  not  space  to  report.  He 
ended  by  saying: 

"  And  now,  Miss  Hannah,  if  I  were  you  I  would  not  expose 
myself  to  affronts  by  going  to  seek  work." 

"  But  what  can  I  do,  Morris  ?  Must  I  starve,  and  let  the  child 
starve  ?  "  asked  the  weaver,  in  despair. 

"  Well,  no,  Miss  Hannah ;  me  and  my  ole  'oman  must  see 
what  we  can  do  for  you.  She  aint  as  young  as  she  used  to  be, 
and  she  mustn't  work  so  hard.  She  must  part  with  some  of  her 
own  spinning  and  weaving  to  you.  And  I  must  work  a  little 
Larder  to  pay  for  it.  Which  I  am  very  willing  to  do;  for  I 
say,  Hannah,  when  an  able-bodied  man  is  not  willing  to  shift 
the  burden  off  his  wife's  shoulders  on  to  his  own,  he  is  unworthy 
to  be " 

Here  the  professor  launched  into  a  second  oration,  longer  than 
the  first.     In  conclusion,  he  said : 

"  And  so.  Miss  Hannah,  we  will  give  you  what  work  we  have 
to  put  out.  And  you  must  try  and  knock  along  and  do  as  well 
as  you  can  this  season.  And  before  the  next  the  poor  child 
"will  die,  and  the  people  will  forget  all  about  it,  and  employ  you 
again." 

"  But  the  child  is  not  a-going  to  die ! "  burst  forth  Hannah, 
in  exasperation.  "  If  he  was  the  son  of  rich  parents,  whose 
hearts  lay  in  him,  and  who  piled  comforts  and  luxuries  an(} 


160  ishmael;  ok,  ix  the  depths. 

elegances  upon  liim,  and  fell  down  and  worshiped  him,  and 
had  a  big  fortune  and  a  great  name  to  leave  him,  and  so  did 
everything  they  possibly  could  to  keep  him  alive,  he'd  die  I 
But  being  what  he  is,  a  misery  and  shame  to  himself  and  all 
connected  with  him,  he'll  live!  Yes,  half-perished  as  he  is 
with  cold  and  famine,  he'll  live !     Look  at  him  now !  " 

The  professor  did  turn  and  look  at  the  little,  thin,  wizen- 
faced  boy  who  lay  upon  the  bed,  contentedly  sucking  his  skinny 
thumb,  and  regarding  the  speaker  with  big,  bright,  knowing 
eyes,  that  seemed  to  say: 

"  Yes,  I  mean  to  suck  my  thumb  and  live !  " 

"  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  think  so,  too,"  said  the  professor, 
scarcely  certain  whether  he  was  replying  to  the  words  of  Han- 
nah or  to  the  looks  of  the  child. 

It  is  certain  that  the  dread  of  death  and  the  desire  of  life 
is  the  very  earliest  instinct  of  every  animate  creature.  Per- 
liaps  this  child  was  endowed  with  excessive  vitality.  Certainly, 
the  babe's  persistence  in  living  on  "  under  difficulties  "  might 
have  been  the  germ  of  that  enormous  strength  and  power  of 
will  for  which  the  man  was  afterwards  so  noted. 

The  professor  kept  his  word  with  Hannah,  and  brought  her 
some  work.  But  the  little  that  he  could  afford  to  pay  for  it 
was  not  su.fficient  to  supply  one-fourth  of  Hannah's  necessities. 

At  last  came  a  day  when  her  provisions  were  all  gone.  And 
Hannah  locked  the  child  up  alone  in  the  hut  and  set  off  to  walk 
to  Baymouth,  to  try  to  get  some  meal  and  bacon  on  credit  from 
the  country  shop  where  she  had  dealt  all  her  life. 

Baymouth  was  a  small  port,  at  the  mouth  of  a  small  bay  mak- 
ing up  from  the  Chesapeake.  It  had  one  church,  in  charge  of 
the  Episcopal  minister  who  had  baptized  IN'ora's  child.  And  it 
had  one  large,  country  store,  kept  by  a  general  dealer  named 
itTutt,  who  had  for  sale  everything  to  eat,  drink,  wear,  or  wield, 
from  sugar  and  tea  to  meat  and  fish;  from  linen  cambric  to 
linsey-woolsey;  from  bonnets  and  hats  to  boots  and  shoes; 
from  new  milk  to  old  whisky;  from  fresh  eggs  to  stale  cheese; 
and  from  needles  and  thimbles  to  plows  and  harrows. 

Hannah,  as  I  said,  had  been  in  the  habit  of  dealing  at  this 
shop  all  her  life,  and  paying  cash  for  everything  she  got.  So 
now,  indeed,  she  might  reasonably  ask  for  a  little  credit,  a 
little  indulgence  until  she  could  procure  work.  Yet,  for  all 
that,  she  blushed  and  hesitated  at  having  to  ask  the  unusual 
favor.    She  entered  the  store  and  found  the  dealer  alone.    She 


nobody's   SOU".  161 

•was  glad  of  that,  as  she  rathei-  shrank  from  preferring  her  hum- 
ble request  before  witnesses.  Mr.  Nutt  hurried  forward  to  wait 
on  her.    Hannah  explained  her  wants,  and  then  added : 

"  If  you  will  please  credit  me  for  the  things,  Mr.  Nutt,  I  will 
be  sure  to  pay  you  the  first  of  the  month." 

The  dealer  looked  at  the  customer  and  then  looked  down  at 
the  counter,  but  made  no  reply. 

Hannah,  seeing  his  hesitation,  hastened  to  say  that  she  had 
been  out  of  work  all  the  winter  and  spring,  but  that  she  hoped 
soon  to  get  some  more,  when  she  would  be  sure  to  pay  her 
creditor. 

"  Yes,  I  know  you  have  lost  your  employment,  poor  girl,  and 
I  fear  that  you  will  not  get  it  again,"  said  the  dealer,  with  a 
look  of  compassion. 

"  But  why,  oh !  why  should  I  not  be  allowed  to  work,  when 
I  do  my  work  so  willingly  and  so  well  ? "  exclaimed  Hannah,  in 
despair. 

"  Well,  my  dear  girl,  if  you  do  not  know  the  reason,  I  cannot 
be  the  man  to  tell  you." 

"  But  if  I  cannot  get  work,  what  shall  I  do  ?  Oh !  what  shall 
I  do?  I  cannot  starve!  And  I  cannot  see  the  child  starve!" 
exclaimed  Hannah,  clasping  her  hands  and  raising  her  eyes  in 
earnest  appeal  to  the  judgment  of  the  man  who  had  known  her 
from  infancy:  who  was  old  enough  to  be  her  father,  and  who 
had  a  wife  and  grown  daughter  of  his  own: 

"  What  shall  I  do  ?    Oh !  what  shall  I  do  ?  "  she  repeated. 

Mr.  Nutt  still  seemed  to  hesitate  and  reflect,  stealing  furtive 
glances  at  the  anxious  face  of  the  w^oman.  At  last  he  bent 
across  the  counter,  took  her  hand,  and,  bending  his  head  close 
to  her  face,  whispered : 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,  Hannah.  I  will  let  you  have  the  articles 
you  have  asked  for,  and  anything  else  in  my  store  that  you 
want,  and  I  will  never  charge  you  anything  for  them " 

"  Oh,  sir,  I  couldn't  think  of  imposing  on  your  goodness  so ! 
The  Lord  reward  you,  sir!  but  I  only  want  a  little  credit  for 
a  short  time,"  broke  out  Hannah,  in  the  warmth  of  her  grati- 
tude. 

"  But  stop,  hear  me  out,  my  dear  girl !  I  was  about  to  say 
you  might  come  to  my  store  and  get  whatever  you  want,  at  any 
time,  v/ithout  payment,  if  you  will  let  me  drop  in  and  see  you 
sometimes  of  evenings,"  whispered  the  dealer. 

"  Sir ! "  said  Hannah,  looking  up  in  innocent  perplexity. 


162  ishmael;  or,  ik  the  depths. 

The  man  repeated  his  proposal  with  a  look  that  taught  even 
Hannah's  simplicity  that  she  had  received  the  deepest  insult 
a  woman  could  suffer.  Hannah  was  a  rude,  honest,  high- 
spirited  old  maid.  And  she  immediately  obeyed  her  natural 
impulses,  which  were  to  raise  her  strong  hands  and  soundly  box 
the  villain's  ears  right  and  left,  until  he  saw  more  stars  in 
the  firmament  than  had  ever  been  created.  And  before  he 
could  recover  from  the  shock  of  the  assault  she  picked  up  her- 
basket  and  strode  from  the  shop.  Indignation  lent  her  strength. 
and  si)eed,  and  she  walked  home  in  double-quick  time.  But 
once  in  the  shelter  of  her  own  hut  she  sat  down,  threw  her  aproix 
over  her  head,  and  burst  into  passionate  tears  and  sobs,  crying  z 

"  It's  all  along  of  poor  Nora  and  that  child,  as  I'm  thought 
ill  on  by  the  women  and  insulted  by  the  men!  Yes,  it  is,  you 
miserable  little  wretch!  "  she  added,  speaking  to  the  baby,  wh^ 
had  opened  his  big  eyes  to  see  the  cause  of  the  uproar.  "  It's 
all  on  her  account  and  youm,  as  I'm  treated  so!  Why  do  you 
keep  on  living,  you  poor  little  shrimp?  Why  don't  you  die? 
Why  can't  both  of  us  die?  Many  people  die  who  want  to  live! 
Why  should  we  live  who  want  to  die  ?  Tell  me  that,  little  mis- 
erable ! "  But  the  baby  defiantly  sucked  his  thumb,  as  if  it 
held  the  elixir  of  life,  and  looked  indestructible  vitality  from 
his  great,  bright  eyes. 

Hannah  never  ventured  to  ask  another  favor  from  mortal 
man,  except  the  very  few  in  whom  she  could  place  entire  con- 
fidence, such  as  the  pastor  of  the  parish,  the  Professor  of  Odd 
Jobs,  and  old  Jovial.  Especially  she  shunned  ISTutt's  shop  as 
she  would  have  shunned  a  pesthouse;  although  this  course 
obliged  her  to  go  two  miles  farther  to  another  village  to  pro- 
cure necessaries  v/henever  she  had  money  to  pay  for  them. 

IN'utt,  on  his  part,  did  not  think  it  prudent  to  prosecute  Han- 
nah for  assault.  But  he  did  a  base  thing  more  fatal  to  her 
reputation.  He  told  his  wife  how  that  worthless  creature,  whose 
sister  turned  out  so  badly,  had  come  running  after  him,  want- 
ing to  get  goods  from  his  shop,  and  teasing  him  to  come  to  see 
her;  but  that  he  had  promptly  ordered  her  out  of  the  shop  and 
threatened  her  with  a  constable  if  ever  she  dared  to  show  her 
face  there  again. 

False,  absurd,  and  cruel  as  this  story  was,  Mrs.  l^utt  believed 
it,  and  told  all  her  acquaintances  what  an  abandoned  wretch 
that  woman  was.  And  thus  poor  Hannah  Worth  lost  all  that 
she  possessed  in  the  world — her  good  name.     She  had  always 


nobody's  son.  163 

been  very  poor.  But  it  would  be  too  dreadful  now  to  tell  in  de- 
tail of  the  depths  of  destitution  and  misery  into  which  she  and 
the  child  fell,  and  in  which  they  suffered  and  struggled  to  keep 
soul  and  body  together  for  years  and  years. 

It  is  wonderful  how  long  life  may  be  sustained  under  the 
severest  privations.  Ishmael  suffered  the  extremes  of  hunger 
and  cold ;  yet  he  did  not  starve  or  freeze  to  death ;  he  lived  and 
grew  in  that  mountain  hut  as  pertinaciously  as  if  he  had  been 
the  pampered  pet  of  some  royal  nursery. 

At  first  Hannah  did  not  love  him.  Ah,  you  know,  such  un- 
welcome children  are  seldom  loved,  even  by  their  parents.  But 
this  child  was  so  patient  and  affectionate,  that  it  must  have  been 
an  unnatural  heart  that  would  not  have  been  won  by  his  artless 
efforts  to  please.  He  bore  hunger  and  cold  and  weariness  with 
baby  heroism.  And  if  you  doubt  whether  there  is  any  such  a 
thing  in  the  world  as  "baby  heroism,"  just  visit  the  nursery 
hospitals  of  New  York,  and  look  at  the  cheerfulness  of  infant 
sufferers  from  disease. 

Ishmael  was  content  to  sit  upon  the  floor  all  day  long,  with 
his  big  eyes  watching  Hannah  knit,  sew,  spin,  or  weave,  as 
the  case  might  be.  And  if  she  happened  to  drop  her  thimble, 
scissors,  spool  of  cotton,  or  ball  of  yam,  Ishmael  would  crawl 
after  it  as  fast  as  his  feeble  little  limbs  would  take  him,  and 
bring  it  back  and  hold  it  up  to  her  with  a  smile  of  pleasure,  or, 
if  the  feat  had  been  a  fine  one,  a  little  laugh  of  triumph.  Thus, 
even  before  he  could  walk,  he  tried  to  make  himself  useful. 
It  was  his  occupation  to  love  Hannah,  and  watch  her,  and  crawl 
after  anything  she  dropped  and  restore  it  to  her.  Was  this 
such  a  small  service  ?  'No ;  for  it  saved  the  poor  woman  the  trou- 
ble of  getting  up  and  deranging  her  work  to  chase  rolling  balls 
of  yarn  around  the  room.  Or  was  it  a  small  pleasure  to  the 
lonely  old  maid  to  see  the  child  smile  lovingly  up  in  her  face 
as  he  tendered  her  these  baby  services?  I  think  not.  Hannah 
■'grew  to  love  little  Ishmael.  Who,  indeed,  could  have  received 
all  his  innocent  overtures  of  affection  and  not  loved  him  a  little 
in  return?  ISTot  honest  Hannah  Worth.  It  was  thus,  you  see, 
by  his  own  artless  efforts  that  he  won  his  grim  aunt's  heart. 
This  was  our  boy's  first  success.  And  the  truth  may  as  well 
be  told  of  him  now,  that  in  the  whole  course  of  his  eventful 
life  he  gained  no  earthly  good  which  he  did  not  earn  by  his  own 
merits.     But  I  must  hurry  over  this  part  of  my  slory. 

When  Ishmael  was  about  four  years  old  he  began  to  take 


164  ishmael;  oe,  m  the  depths. 

pleasure  in  the  quaint  pictures  of  the  old  family  Bihle,  that 
I  have  mentioned  as  the  only  book  and  sole  literary  possession 
of  Hannah  Worth.  A  rare  old  copy  it  was,  bearing  the  date 
of  London,  1720,  and  containing  the  strangest  of  all  old  old- 
fashioned  engravings.  But  to  the  keenly  appreciating  mind  of 
the  child  these  pictures  were  a  gallery  of  art.  And  on  Sunday 
afternoons,  when  Hannah  had  leisure  to  exhibit  them,  Ishmael 
never  wearied  of  standing  by  her  side,  and  gazing  at  the  illus- 
trations of  "  Cain  and  Abel,"  "  Joseph  Sold  by  his  Brethren," 
"  Moses  in  the  Bulrushes,"  "  Samuel  Called  by  the  Lord,"  "John, 
the  Baptist  and  the  Infant  Jesus,"  "  Christ  and  the  Doctors  in 
the  Temple,"  and  so  forth. 

"  Read  me  about  it,"  he  would  say  of  each  picture. 

And  Hannah  would  have  to  read  these  beautiful  Bible  stories. 
One  day,  when  he  was  about  five  years  old,  he  astonished  his 
aunt  by  saying: 

"  And  now  I  want  to  read  about  them  for  myself !  " 

But  Hannah  found  no  leisure  to  teach  him.  And  besides  she 
thought  it  would  be  time  enough  some  years  to  come  for  Ish- 
naael  to  learn  to  read.  So  thought  not  our  boy,  however,  as  a 
few  days  proved. 

One  night  Hannah  had  taken  home  a  dress  to  one  of  the 
plantation  negroes,  who  were  now  her  only  customers,  and  it 
was  late  when  she  returned  to  the  hut.  When  she  opened  the 
door  a  strange  sight  met  her  eyes.  The  Professor  of  Odd  Jobs 
occupied  the  seat  of  honor  in  the  arm  chair  in  the  chimney 
corner.  On  his  knees  lay  the  open  Bible;  while  by  his  side 
stood  little  Ishmael,  holding  an  end  of  candle  in  his  hand,  and 
diligently  conning  the  large  letters  on  the  title  page.  The  little 
fellow  looked  up  with  his  face  full  of  triumph,  exclaiming: 

"  Oh,  aunty,  I  know  all  the  letters  on  this  page  now !  And 
the  professor  is  going  to  teach  me  to  read!  And  I  am  going 
to  help  him  gather  his  herbs  and  roots  every  day  to  pay  him 
for  his  trouble !  " 

The  professor  looked  up  and  smiled    apologetically,  saying: 

"  I  just  happened  in,  Miss  Hannah,  to  see  if  there  was  any- 
thing wanting  to  be  done,  and  I  found  this  boy  lying  on  the 
floor  with  the  Bible  open  before  him  trying  to  puzzle  out  the 
letters  for  himself.  And  as  soon  as  he  saw  me  he  up  and  struck 
a  bargain  with  me  to  teach  him  to  read.  And  I'll  tell  you  what. 
Miss  Hannah,  he's  going  to  make  a  man  one  of  these  days! 
You  know  I've  been  a  colored  schoolmaster,  among  my  other 


is'obody's  son.  165 

professions,  and  I  tell  you  I  never  came  across  such  a  quick 
little  fellow  as  he  is,  bless  his  big  head!  There  now,  my  little 
man,  that's  learning  enough  for  one  sitting.  And  besides  the 
candle  is  going  out,"  concluded  the  professor,  as  he  arose  and 
<3losed  the  book  and  departed. 

But  again  Ishmael  held  a  different  opinion  from  his  elders; 
and  lying  down  before  the  fire-lit  hearth,  with  the  book  open 
before  him,  he  went  over  and  over  his  lesson,  grafting  it  firmly 
in  his  memory  lest  it  should  escape  him.  In  this  way  our  boy 
took  his  first  step  in  knowledge.  Two  or  three  times  in  the 
course  of  the  week  the  professor  would  come  to  give  him 
another  lesson.  And  Ishmael  paid  for  his  tuition  by  doing  the 
least  of  the  little  odd  jobs  for  the  professor  of  that  useful  art. 

"  You  see  I  can  feel  for  the  boy  like  a  father,  Miss  Hannah,'* 
said  the  professor,  after  giving  his  lesson  one  evening ;  "  be- 
cause, you  know,  I  am  in  a  manner  self-educated  myself.  I 
had  to  pick  up  reading,  writing,  and  'rithmetick  any  way  I 
could  from  the  white  children.  So  I  can  feel  for  this  boy  as  I 
once  felt  for  myself.  All  my  children  are  girls;  but  if  I  had 
a  son  I  couldn't  feel  more  pride  in  him  than  I  do  in  this  boy. 
And  I  tell  you  again,  he  is  going  to  make  a  man  one  of 
these  days." 

Ishmael  thought  so  too.  Tie  had  previsions  of  future  success, 
as  every  very  intelligent  lad  must  have ;  but  at  present  his  am- 
bition took  no  very  lofty  flights.  The  greatest  man  of  his  ac- 
quaintance was  the  Professor  of  Odd  Jobs.  And  to  attain  the 
glorious  eminence  occupied  by  the  learned  and  eloquent  dig- 
nitary was  the  highest  aspiration  of  our  boy's  early  genius. 

"  Aunty,"  he  said  one  day,  after  remaining  in  deep  thought 
for  a  long  time,  "  do  you  think  if  I  was  to  study  very  hard 
indeed,  night  «nd  day,  for  years  and  years,  I  should  ever  be  able 
to  get  as  much  knowledge  and  make  as  fine  speeches  as  the  pro- 
fessor ? " 

"  How  do  I  know,  Ishmael  ?  You  ask  such  stupid  questions. 
All  I  can  say  is,  if  it  aint  in  you  it  will  never  come  out  of  you," 
answered  the  unappreciating  aunt. 

"  Oh,  if  that's  all,  it  is  in  me;  there's  a  deal  more  in  me  than. 
I  can  talk  about;  and  so  I  believe  I  shall  be  able  to  make  fine 
speeches  like  the  professor  some  day." 

Morris  certainly  took  great  pains  with  his  pupil ;  and  Ishmael 
repaid  his  teacher's  zeal  by  the  utmost  devotion  to  his  service. 

By  the  time  our  boy  had  attained  his  seventh  year  he  could. 
read  fluently,  write  legibly,  and  work  the  first  four  rules  in 


166  isidiael;  on,  t?t  the  depths. 

arithmetic.  Besides  this,  he  had  glided  into  a  sort  of  appren- 
ticeship to  the  odd-job  line  of  business,  and  was  very  useful  to 
his  principal.  The  manner  in  which  he  helped  his  master  was 
something  like  this:  If  the  odd  job  on  hand  happened  to  be 
in  the  tinkering  line,  Ishmael  could  heat  the  irons  and  prepare 
the  solder;  if  it  were  in  the  carpentering  and  joining  branch,  he 
could  melt  the  glue;  if  in  the  brick-laying,  he  could  mix  the 
mortar;  if  in  the  painting  and  glazing,  he  could  roll  the  putty. 

When  he  was  eight  years  old  he  commenced  the  study  of 
gi'ammar,  geography,  and  history,  from  old  books  lent  him  by 
Lis  patron ;  'and  he  also  took  a  higher  degree  in  his  art,  and  be- 
gan to  assist  his  master  by  doing  the  duties  of  clerk  and  mak- 
ing the  responses,  whenever  the  professor  assumed  the  office  o£ 
parson  and  conducted  the  church  services  to  a  barn  full  of 
colored  brethren;  by  performing  the  part  of  mourner  whenever 
the  professor  undertook  to  superintend  a  funeral;  and  by  play- 
ing the  tambourine  in  accompaniment  to  the  professor's  violin 
wlaenever  the  latter  became  master  of  ceremonies  for  a  colored 
TDall! 

In  this  manner  he  not  only  paid  for  his  own  tuition,  but 
earned  a  very  small  stipend,  which  it  was  his  pride  to  carry  to 
Kannah,  promising  her  that  some  day  soon  he  should  be  able 
to  earn  enough  to  support  her  in  comfort. 

Thus  our  boy  was  rapidly  progressing  in  the  art  of  odd  jobs 
and  bidding  fair  to  emulate  the  fame  and  usefulness  of  the 
eminent  professor  himself,  when  an  event  occurred  in  the  neigh- 
borhood that  was  destined  to  change  the  direction  of  his  genius. 


CHAPTEE  XX. 

NEWS  FROM  HER3IAN. 

Bnt  that  •which  keepeth  iia  apart  is  not 
Distance,  nor  depth  of  wave,  nor  space  of  earth, 

But  the  distractions  of  a  various  lot, 
As  Yarious  as  the  cUmates  of  our  birth. 

My  blood  is  all  meridian — were  it  not 
I  had  not  left  my  clime,  nor  should  I  be, 

In  spite  of  tortures,  ne'er  to  be  forgot, 
A  slave  again  of  lore,  at  least  of  thee! 

— Byron. 

The  life  of  Berenice  was  lonely  enough.  She  had  persevere 
ingly  rejected  the  visits  of  her  neighbors,  until  at  length  they 
liad  taken  her  at  her  word  and  kept  away  from  her  house. 


NE"^S    FEOM   HEK]\rA]Sr.  167 

She  had  persistently  declined  the  invitations  of  Mrs.  Bru- 
denell  to  join  the  family  circle  at  Washington  every  winter,  un- 
til at  last  that  lady  had  ceased  to  repeat  them  and  had  also  dis- 
continued her  visits  to  Brudenell  Hall. 

Berenice  passed  her  time  in  hoping  and  praying  for  her  hus- 
band's return,  and  in  preparing  and  adorning  her  home  for  his 
reception;  in  training  and  improving  the  negroes;  in  visiting 
and  relieving  the  poor;  and  in  walking  to  th©  turnstile  and 
watching  the  high-road. 

Surely  a  more  harmless  and  beneficent  life  could  not  be  led 
by  woman ;  yet  the  poisonous  alchemy  of  detraction  turned  all 
her  good  deeds  into  evil  ones. 

Poor  Berenice — poor  in  love,  was  rich  in  gold,  and  she  lav- 
ished it  with  an  unsparing  hand  on  the  improvement  of  Bru- 
denell. She  did  not  feel  at  liberty  to  pull  down  and  build  up, 
else  had  the  time-worn  old  mansion  house  disappeared  from 
sight  and  a  new  and  elegant  villa  had  reared  its  walls  upon  Bru- 
denell Heights.  But  she  did  everything  else  she  could  to  en- 
hance the  beauty  and  value  of  the  estate. 

The  house  was  thoroughly  repaired,  refurnished,  and  decor- 
ated with  great  luxury,  richness,  and  splendor.  The  grounds 
were  laid  out,  planted,  and  adorned  with  all  the  beauty  that 
taste,  wealth,  and  skill  could  produce.  Orchards  and  vineyards 
were  set  out.  Conservatories  and  pineries  were  erected.  The 
negroes'  squalid  log-huts  were  replaced  with  neat  stone  cottages, 
and  the  shabby  wooden  fences  by  substantial  stone  walls. 

And  all  this  was  done,  not  for  herself,  but  for  her  husband, 
and  her  constant  mental  inquiry  was: 

"  After  all,  will  Herman  be  pleased  ?  " 

Yet  when  the  neighbors  saw  this  general  renovation  of  the 
estate,  which  could  not  have  been  accomplished  without  con- 
siderable expenditure  of  time,  money,  and  labor,  they  shook 
their  heads  in  strong  disapprobation,  and  predicted  that  that 
woman's  extravagance  would  bring  Herman  Brudenell  to  beg- 
gai-y  yet. 

She  sought  to  raise  the  condition  of  the  negroes,  not  only 
by  giving  them  neat  cottages,  but  by  comfortably  burnishing 
their  rooms,  and  encouraging  them  to  keep  their  little  house3 
and  gardens  in  order,  rewarding  them  for  neatness  and  indus- 
try, and  established  a  school  for  their  children  to  learn  to  read 
and  write.  But  the  negroes — hereditary  servants  of  the  Bru- 
denells — ^looked  upon  this  stranger  with  jealous  distrust,  as  an 
interloping  foreigner  who  had,  by  some  means  or  other,  man- 


168  ishmael;  oe,  ii^  the  depths. 

aged  to  dispossess  and  drive  away  the  rightful  family  from  the 
old  place.  And  so  they  regarded  all  her  favors  as  a  species  of 
bribery,  and  thanked  her  for  none  of  them.  And  this  was 
really  not  ingratitude,  but  fidelity.  The  neighbors  denounced 
these  well-meant  efforts  of  the  mistress  as  dangerous  innova- 
tions, incendiarisms,  and  so  forth,  and  thanked  Heaven  that 
the  Brudenell  negroes  were  too  faithful  to  be  led  away  by  her  I 

She  went  out  among  the  poor  of  her  neighborhood  and  re- 
lieved their  wants  with  such  indiscriminate  and  munificent 
generosity  as  to  draw  down  upon  herself  the  rebuke  of  the  clergy 
for  encouraging  habits  of  improvidence  and  dependence  in  the 
laboring  classes.  As  for  the  subjects  of  her  benevolence,  they 
xeceived  her  bounty  with  the  most  extravagant  expressions  of 
gratitude  and  the  most  fulsome  flattery.  This  was  so  dis- 
tasteful to  Berenice  that  she  oftened  turned  her  face  away, 
blushing  with  embarrassment  at  having  listened  to  it.  Yet  such 
was  the  gentleness  of  her  spirit,  that  she  never  wounded  their 
feelings  by  letting  them  see  that  she  distrusted  the  sincerity  of 
these  hyperbolical  phrases. 

"  Poor  souls,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  it  is  the  best  they  have  to 
offer  me,  and  I  will  take  it  as  if  it  were  genuine." 

Berenice  was  right  in  her  estimate  of  their  flattery.  Aston- 
ished at  her  lavish  generosity,  and  ignorant  of  her  great  wealth, 
■which  made  alms-giving  easy,  her  poor  neighbors  put  their  old 
beads  together  to  find  out  the  solution  of  the  problem.  And 
they  came  to  the  conclusion  that  this  lady  must  have  been  a 
great  sinner,  whose  husband  had  abandoned  her  for  some  very- 
good  reason,  and  who  was  now  endeavoring  to  atone  for  her 
sins  by  a  life  of  self-denial  and  benevolence.  This  conclusion 
seemed  too  probable  to  be  questioned.  This  verdict  was  brought 
to  the  knowledge  of  Berenice  in  a  curious  way.  Among  the  re- 
cipients of  her  bounty  was  Mrs.  Jones,  the  ladies'  nurse.  The 
old  woman  had  fallen  into  a  long  illness,  and  consequently  into 
extreme  want.  Her  case  came  to  the  knowledge  of  Berenice, 
■who  hastened  to  relieve  her.  "When  the  lady  had  made  the  in- 
"valid  comfortable  and  was  about  to  take  leave,  the  latter  said : 

"  Ah,  '  charity  covers  a  multitude  of  sins,'  ma'am !  Let  us 
bope  that  all  yours  may  be  so  covered." 

Berenice  stared  in  surprise.  It  was  not  the  words  s®  m.uch  as 
the  manner  that  shocked  her.  And  Phoebe,  who  had  attended 
ber  mistress,  scarcely  got  well  out  of  the  bouse  before  her  in- 
dignation burst  forth  in  the  expletives: 


NEWS    FKOM   HERMAN.  169 

■"  Old  brute !  Whatever  did  she  mean  by  her  insolence  ?  My 
lady,  I  hope  you  will  do  nothing  more  for  the  old  wretch." 

Berenice  walked  on  in  silence  until  they  reached  the  spot 
where  chey  had  left  their  carriage,  and  when  they  had  re- 
entered it,  she  said: 

"Something  like  this  has  vaguely  met  me  before;  but  never 
so  plainly  and  bluntly  as  to-day;  it  is  unpleasant;  but  i  mvist 
not  pxmish  one  poor  old  woman  for  a  misapprehension  shared 
by  the  whole  community." 

So  calmly  and  dispassionately  had  the  countess  answered  her 
attendant's  indignant  exclamation.  But  as  soon  as  Berenice 
reached  her  ovm.  chamber  she  dismissed  her  maid,  locked  her 
door,  and  gave  herself  up  to  a  passion  of  grief. 

It  was  but  a  trifle — that  coarse  speech  of  a  thoughtless  old 
woman — a  mere  trifle;  but  it  ovenvhelmed  her,  coming,  as  it 
did,  after  all  that  had  gone  before.  It  was  but  the  last  feather, 
you  know,  only  a  single  feather  laid  on  the  pack  that  broke  the 
camel's  back.  It  was  but  a  drop  of  water,  a  single  drop,  that 
made  the  full  c-up  overflow! 

Added  to  bereavement,  desertion,  loneliness,  slander,  ingrati- 
tude, had  come  this  little  bit  of  insolence  to  overthrow  the  firm- 
ness that  had  stood  all  the  rest.     And  Berenice  wept. 

She  had  left  home,  friends,  and  country  for  one  who  repaid 
the  sacrifice  by  leaving  her.  She  had  lavished  her  wealth  upon 
those  who  received  her  bounty  with  suspicion  and  repaid  her 
kindness  with  ingratitude.  She  had  lived  a  life  as  blameless 
and  as  beneficent  as  that  of  any  old  time  saint  or  martyr,  and 
had  won  by  it  nothing  but  detraction  and  calumny.  Her  par- 
ents were  dead,  her  husband  gone,  her  native  land  far  away,  her 
hopes  were  crushed.  No  wonder  she  wept.  And  then  the 
countess  was  out  of  her  sphere;  as  much  out  of  her  sphere  in. 
the  woods  of  Mai"yland  as  Hans  Christian  Andersen's  cygnet 
was  in  the  barnyard  full  of  fowls.  She  was  a  swan,  and  they 
took  her  for  a  deformed  duck.  And  at  last  she  herself  began  to 
be  vaguely  conscious  of  this. 

"  Why  do  I  remain  here  ?  "  she  moaned ;  "  what  strange  mag- 
netic power  is  it  that  holds  my  very  will,  fettered  here, 
against  my  reason  and  judgment?  That  has  so  held  me  for 
long  years?  Yes,  for  long,  weary  years  have  I  been  bound  to 
this  cross,  and  I  am  not  dead  yet!  Heavenly  Powers!  what 
are  my  nerves  and  brain  and  heart  made  of  that  I  am  not  dead, 
or  mad,  or  criminal  before  this?     Steel,  and  rock,  and  gutt^ 


170  isibiael;  oe,  in  the  depths. 

perclia,  I  think!  Not  mere  flesh  and  blood  and  bone  like  other 
women's  ?  Oh,  why  do  I  stay  here  ?  Why  do  I  not  go  home  ?  I 
have  lost  everything  else;  but  I  have  still  a  home  and  country 
left !  Oh,  that  I  could  break  loose !  Oh,  that  I  could  free  my- 
self !  *  Oh,  that  I  had  the  wings  of  a  dove,  for  then  I  would 
fly  away  and  be  at  rest ! ' "  she  exclaimed,  breaking  into  the  pa- 
thetic language  of  the  Psalmist. 

A  voice  softly  stole  upon  her  ear,  a  low,  plaintive  voice  sing- 
ing a  homely  Scotch  song : 

"  '  Oh,  it's  hame,  hame,  liame, 
Hame  fain  would  I  be; 
But  the  wearie  never  win  back 
To  their  aiu  countrie.'  " 

Tears  sprang  again  to  the  eyes  of  the  countess  as  she  caught 
up  and  murmured  the  last  two  lines : 

*'  *  But  the  wearie  never  win  back 
To  their  aiu  countrie.' " 

Phcebe,  for  it  was  she  who  was  singing,  hushed  her  song  as 
she  reached  her  lady's  door,  and  knocked  softly.  The  countesa 
unlocked  the  door  to  admit  her. 

"  It  is  only  the  mail  bag,  my  lady,  that  old  Jovial  has  just 
brought  from  the  post  office,"  said  the  girl. 

Lady  Hurstmonceux  listlessly  looked  over  its  contents.  Sev- 
eral years  of  disappointment  had  worn  out  all  expectation  of 
hearing  from  the  only  one  of  whom  she  cared  to  receive  news. 
There  were  home  and  foreign  newspapers  that  she  threw  care- 
lessly out.  And  there  was  one  letter  at  the  bottom  of  all  the 
rest  that  she  lifted  up  and  looked  at  with  languid  curiosity. 
But  as  soon  as  her  eyes  fell  upon  the  handwriting  of  the  super- 
scription the  letter  dropped  from  her  hand  and  she  sank  back 
in  her  chair  and  quietly  fainted  away. 

Phoebe  hastened  to  apply  restoratives,  and  after  a  few  min- 
utes the  lady  recovered  consciousness  and  rallied  her  faculties. 

"  The  letter !  the  letter,  girl !  give  me  the  letter !  "  she  gasped 
in  eager  tones. 

Phojbe  picked  it  up  from  the  carpet,  upon  which  it  had  fallen, 
and  handed  it  to  her  mistress. 

Berenice,  with  trembling  fingers,  broke  the  seal  and  read  the 
letter.    It  was  from  Herman  Brudenell,  and  ran  as  follows : 

"  London,  December  1,  18 — 
"  Lady  Hvirstmonceux :  If  there  is  one  element  of  saving  com- 


NEWS    FROM    HEEMAN.  171 

fort  in  my  lost,  unhappy  life,  it  is  the  reflection  that,  though 
in  an  evil  hour  I  made  you  my  wife,  you  are  not  called  by  my 
name;  but  that  the  courtesy  of  custom  continues  to  you  the 
title  won  by  your  first  marriage  with  the  late  Earl  of  Hurst- 
monceux;  and  that  you  cannot  therefore  so  deeply  dishonor  my 
family. 

^' Madam,  it  would  give  me  great  pain  to  write  to  any  other 
woman,  however  guilty,  as  I  am  forced  to  write  to  you ;  because 
on  any  woman  I  should  feel  that  I  was  inflicting  suffering, 
"which  you  know  too  well  I  have  not — never  had  the  nerve  to  do; 
l)ut  you,  I  know,  cannot  be  hurt ;  you  are  callous.  If  your  early 
j-outh  had  not  shown  you  to  be  so,  the  last  few  years  of  your 
life  would  have  proved  it.  If  you  had  not  been  so  insensible 
to  shame  as  you  are  to  remorse,  how  could  you,  after  your  great 
crime,  take  possession  of  my  house  and,  by  so  doing,  turn  my 
mother  and  sisters  from  their  home  and  banish  me  from  my 
country?  For  well  you  know  tJiat,  while  you  live  at  Brudenell 
Hall,  my  family  cannot  re-enter  its  walls !  iSTay,  more — while 
you  choose  to  reside  in  America,  I  must  remain  an  exile  in. 
Europe.  The  same  hemisphere  is  not  broad  enough  to  contain 
the  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux  and  Herman  Brudenell. 

"  I  have  given  you  a  long  time  to  come  to  your  senses  and 
leave  my  house.  Now  my  patience  is  exhausted,  and  I  require 
you  to  depart.  You  are  not  embarrassed  for  a  home  or  a  sup- 
port :  if  you  were  I  should  afford  you  both,  on  condition  of  your 
departure  from  America.  But  my  whole  patrimony  would  be 
but  a  mite  added  to  your  treasures. 

"  You  have  country-seats  in  England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland, 
as  well  as  a  town  house  in  London,  a  marine  villa  at  Boulougne, 
and  a  Swiss  cottage  on  Lake  Leman.  All  these  are  your  own; 
and  you  shall  never  be  molested  by  me  in  your  exclusive  pos- 
session of  them.  Choose  your  residence  from  among  them,  and 
leave  me  in  peaceable  possession  of  the  one  modest  country- 
house  I  have  inherited  in  my  native  land.    I  wish  to  sell  it. 

"  But  you  doubtless  have  infomed  yourself  before  this  time, 
that  by  the  laws  of  the  State  in  v/hich  my  property  is  situated, 
a  man  cannot  sell  his  homestead  v/ithout  the  consent  of  his 
wife.  Your  co-operation  is  therefore  necessary  in  the  sale  of 
Brudenell  Hall.  I  wish  you  to  put  yourself  in  immediate  com- 
munication with  my  solicitors,  Messrs.  Kage  &  Kage,  Monu*^ 
ment  Street,  Baltimore,  who  are  in  possession  of  my  instruc- 
tions.   Do  this  promptly,  and  win  from  me  the  only  return  you 


172      ishmael;  op,  ii^"  the  depths. 

have  left  it  in  my  power  to  make  you — oblivion  of  your  crimes 
and  of  yourself. 

"  Herman  Brudenell." 

With  the  calmness  of  despair  Berenice  read  this  cruel  letter 
through  to  the  end,  and  dropped  it  on  her  lap,  and  sat  staring 
at  it  in  silence.  Then,  as  if  incredulous  of  its  contents,  or 
doubtful  of  its  meaning,  she  took  it  up  and  read  it  again,  and 
again  let  it  fall.  And  yet  a  third  time — after  rapidly  passing 
her  hand  to  and  fro  across  her  forehead,  as  if  that  action  would 
clear  her  vision — she  raised,  re-perused,  and  laid  aside  the  let- 
ter. Then  she  firmly  set  her  teeth,  and  slowly  nodded  her  head, 
while  for  an  instant  a  startling  light  gleamed  from  her  deep 
black  eyes. 

Her  faithful  attendant,  while  seeming  to  be  busy  arranging 
the  flasks  on  the  dressing-table,  furtively  and  anxiously  watched 
her  mistress,  who  at  last  spoke: 

"Phcebe!" 

"Yes,  my  lady." 

"  Bring  me  a  glass  of  wine." 

The  girl  brought  the  required  stimulant,  and  in  handing  it 
to  her  mistress  noticed  how  deadly  white  her  face  had  become. 
And  as  the  countess  took  the  glass  from  the  little  silver 
waiter  her  hand  came  in  contact  with  that  of  Phoebe,  and  the 
girl  felt  as  if  an  icicle  had  touched  her,  so  cold  it  was. 

"Now  wheel  my  writing-desk  forward,"  said  the  countess, 
as  she  sipped  her  wine. 

The  order  was  obeyed. 

"  And  now,"  continued  the  lady,  as  she  replaced  the  glass 
and  opened  her  desk,  "  pack  up  my  wardrobe  and  jewels,  and 
your  own  clothes.  Order  the  carriage  to  be  at  the  door  at  eight 
o'clock,  to  take  us  to  Baymouth.  We  leave  Baymouth  for  New 
York  to-morrow  morning,  and  New  York  for  Liverpool  next 
Saturday." 

"Now,  glory  be  to  Heaven  for  that,  my  lady;  and  I  wish  it 
had  been  years  ago  instead  of  to-day!"  joyfidly  exclaimed  the 
girl,  as  she  went  about  her  business. 

"  And  so  do  I !  And  so  do  I,  with  all  my  heart  and  soul ! " 
thought  Bemice,  as  she  arranged  her  papers  and  took  up  a  pen 
to  write.  In  an  instant  she  laid  it  down  again,  and  arose  and 
Wfilked  restlessly  up  and  down  the  floor,  wi'inging  her  hands, 
and  muttering  to  herself: 


ITEWS   FROM   HERMAIT.  173 

"And  this  is  the  man  for  whose  sake  I  sacrificed  home, 
friends,  country,  and  the  most  splendid  prospects  that  ever 
dazzled  the  imagination  of  woman!  This  is  the  man  whom  I 
have  loved  and  watched  and  prayed  for,  all  these  long  years, 
hoping  against  hope,  and  believing  against  knowledge.  If  he 
had  ceased  to  love  me,  grown  tired  of  me,  and  wished  to  be  rid 
of  me,  could  he  not  have  told  me  so,  frankly,  from  the  first? 
It  would  have  been  less  cruel  than  to  have  inflicted  on  me  this 
long  anguish  of  suspense !  less  cowardly  than  to  have  attempted 
to  justify  his  desertion  of  me  by  a  charge  of  crime!  What 
crime — he  knows  no  more  than  I  do  !  Oh,  Herman !  Herman ! 
how  could  you  fall  so  low?  But  I  will  not  reproach  you  even 
in  my  thoughts.     But  I  must,  I  must  forget  you !  " 

She  returned  to  her  desk,  sat  down  and  took  up  her  pen;  but 
again  she  dropped  it,  bowed  her  head  upon  her  desk,  and  wept : 

"  Oh,  Herman !  Herman !  must  I  never  hope  to  meet  you 
again?  never  look  into  your  dark  eyes,  never  clasp  your  hand, 
or  hear  your  voice  again  ?  never  more  ?  never  more !  Must  mine 
be  the  hand  that  writes  our  sentence  of  separation  ?  I  cannot  I 
oh!  I  cannot  do  it,  Herman!  And  yet! — it  is  you  who  re- 
quire it!" 

After  a  few  minutes  she  took  up  his  letter  and  read  it 
over  for  the  fourth  time.  Its  ruthless  implacability  seemed  to 
give  her  the  strength  necessary  to  obey  its  behests.  As  if  fear- 
ing another  failure  of  her  resolution,  she  wrote  at  once : 

"Brudenell  Hall,  December  30,  18— 

"  Mr.  Brudenell :  Your  letter  has  relieved  me  from  an  em- 
barrassing position.  I  beg  your  pardon  for  having  been  for  so 
long  a  period  an  unconscious  usurper  of  your  premises.  I  had 
mistaken  this  place  for  my  husband's  house  and  my  proper 
home.  My  mistake,  however,  has  not  extended  to  the  appro- 
priation of  the  revenues  of  the  estate.  You  will  find  every 
dollar  of  those  placed  to  your  credit  in  the  Planters'  Bank  o£ 
Baymouth.  My  mistake  has  been  limited  to  the  occupancy  of 
the  house.  For  that  wrong  I  shall  make  what  reparation  re- 
mains in  my  power.  I  shall  leave  this  place  this  Friday  eve- 
ning; see  your  solicitors  on  Monday;  place  in  their  hands  a 
sum  equivalent  to  the  full  value  of  Brudenell  Hall,  as  a  com- 
pensation to  you  for  my  long  use  of  the  house ;  and  then  sign 
whatever  documents  may  be  necessary  to  renounce  all  claim 
upon  yourself  and  your  estate,  and  to  free  you  forever  from 

"Berenice,  Countess  of  Hurstmonceus." 


174      ishmael;  oe,  in  the  depths. 

She  finished  the  letter  and  threw  down  the  pen.  What  i? 
had  cost  her  to  write  thus,  only  her  own  loving  and  outraged 
woman's  heart  knew. 

By  the  time  she  had  sealed  her  letter  Phcebe  entered  to  say- 
that  the  dinner  was  served — that  solita.iy  meal  at  which  she 
had  sat  down,  heart-broken,  for  so  many  weary  years. 

She  answered,  "  Very  well,"  but  never  stirred  from  her  seat. 

Phoebe  fidgeted  about  the  room  for  a  while,  and  then,  with 
;  the  freedom  of  a  favorite  attendant,  she  came  to  the  side  of  the 
countess  and,  smiling  archly,  said: 

"  My  lady." 

"Well,  Phoebe?" 

"People  needn't  starve,  need  they,  because  they  are  going 
back  to  their  '  ain  countrie  '  ?  " 

Lady  Hurstmonceux  smiled  faintly,  roused  herself,  and  went 
down  to  dinner. 

On  her  return  to  her  room,  she  found  her  m.aid  locking  the 
last  trunks. 

"  Is  everything  packed,  Phcebe  ?  " 

"  Except  the  dress  you  have  on,  my  lady ;  and  I  can  lay  that 
on  the  top  of  this  trunk  after  you  put  on  your  traveling  dress." 

"  And  you  are  glad  we  are  going  home,  my  girl  ? " 

"  Oh,  my  lady,  I  feel  as  if  I  could  just  spread  out  my  arms 
and  fly  for  joy." 

"  Then  I  am,  also,  for  your  sake.    What  time  is  it  now?" 

"  Five  o'clock,  my  lady." 

"  Three  hours  yet.     Tell  Mrs.  Spicer  to  come  here." 

Phoebe  locked  the  trunk  she  had  under  her  hand  and  went 
out  to  obey.  When  Mrs.  Spicer  came  in  she  was  startled  by 
the  intelligence  that  her  lady  was  going  away  immediately,  and 
that  the  house  was  to  be  shut  up  until  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Bru- 
denell  or  his  agents,  who  would  arrange  for  its  future  dis- 
position. 

Wlien  Lady  Hurstmonceux  had  finished  these  instructions 
she  placed  a  liberal  sum  of  money  in  the  housekeeper's  hands, 
with  orders  to  divide  it  among  the  house-servants. 

'Next  she  sent  for  Grainger,  the  overseer,  and  having  given 
him  the  same  information,  and  put  a  similar  sum  of  money  in 
his  hands  for  distribution  among  the  negroes,  she  dismissed 
both  the  housekeeper  and  the  overseer.  Then  she  enclosed  a 
note  for  a  large  amount  in  a  letter  addressed  to  the  pastor  of 
the  parish,  with  a  request  that  he  would  appropriate  it  for  the 


KEWS   FEOM   HEEJIATSr.  175 

relief  of  fhe  suffering  poor  in  that  neighborhood.  Finally, 
having  completed  all  her  preparations,  she  took  a  cup  of  tea, 
bade  farewell  to  her  dependents,  and,  attended  by  Phoebe,  en- 
tered the  carriage  and  was  driven  to  Baymouth,  where  she 
posted  her  two  letters  in  time  for  the  evening  mail,  and  where 
the  next  morning  she  took  the  boat  for  Baltimore,  en  route 
for  the  North.  She  stopped  in  Baltimore  only  long  enough  to 
arrange  business  with  Mr.  Brudenell's  solicitors,  and  then, 
proceeded  to  New  York,  whence,  at  the  end  of  the  same  week, 
she  sailed  for  LiverpKDol.  Thus  the  beautiful  young  English 
Jewess,  who  had  dropped  for  a  while  like  some  rich  exotic  flower 
transplanted  to  our  wild  Maryland  woods,  returned  to  her  na- 
tive land,  where,  let  us  hope,  she  found  in  an  appreciating  cir- 
cle of  friends  some  consolation  for  the  loss  of  that  domestic 
happiness  that  had  been  so  cruelly  torn  from  her. 

We  shall  meet  with  Berenice,  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux, 
again ;  but  it  will  be  in  another  sphere,  and  under  other  circum- 
stances. 

It  was  in  the  spring  succeeding  her  departure  that  the  house- 
agents  and  attorneys  came  down  to  appraise  and  sell  Brude- 
nell  Hall.  Since  the  improvements  bestowed  upon  the  estate 
by  Lady  Hurstmonceux,  the  property  had  increased  its  value, 
so  that  a  purchaser  could  not  at  once  be  found.  When  this 
fact  was  communicated  to  Mr.  Brudenell,  in  London,  he  wrote 
and  authorized  his  agent  to  let  the  property  to  a  responsible 
tenant,  and  if  possible  to  hire  the  plantation  negroes  to  the  same 
party  who  should  take  the  house. 

All  this  after  a  while  was  successfully  accomplished.  A  gen- 
tleman from  a  neighboring  State  took  the  house,  all  furnished 
as  it  was,  and  hired  all  the  servants  of  the  premises. 

He  came  early  in  June,  but  who  or  what  he  was,  or  whence 
he  came,  none  of  the  neighbors  knew.  The  arrival  of  any 
stranger  in  a  remote  country  district  is  always  the  occasion  of 
much  curiosity,  speculation,  and  gossip.  But  when  such  a  one 
brings  the  purse  of  Fortunatus  in  his  pocket,  and  takes  pos- 
session of  the  finest  establishment  in  the  country — ^liouse,  fur- 
niture, servants,  carriages,  horses,  stock  and  all,  he  becomes 
the  subject  of  the  wildest  conjecture. 

It  does  not  require  long  to  get  comfortably  to  housekeeping 
in  a  ready-made  home;  so  it  was  soon  understood  in  the 
neighborhood  that  the  strangers  were  settled  in  their  new  resi» 
dence,  and  might  be  supposed  to  be  ready  to  receive  calls. 


176  ishmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

But  the  neighbors,  though  tormented  with  curiosity,  cau- 
tiously held  aloof,  and  waited  until  the  Sabbath,  when  they 
might  expect  to  see  the  newcomers,  and  judge  of  their  appear- 
ance and  hear  their  pastor's  opinion  of  them. 

So,  on  the  first  Sunday  after  the  stranger's  settlement  at 
Brudenell  Hall  the  Baymouth  Church  was  crowded  to  excess. 
But  those  of  the  congregation  who  went  there  with  other  mo- 
tives than  to  worship  their  Creator  were  sadly  disappointed. 
The  crimson-lined  Brudenell  pew  remained  vacant,  as  it  had 
remained  for  several  years. 

"  Humph !  not  church-going  people,  perhaps !  We  had  an 
English  Jewess  before,  perhaps  w©  shall  have  a  Turkish  Mo- 
hammedan next ! "  was  the  speculation  of  one  of  the  disap- 
pointed. 

The  conjecture  proved  false. 

The  next  Sunday  the  Brudenell  pew  was  filled.  There  was  a 
gentleman  and  lady,  and  half-a-dozen  girls  and  boys,  all  dressed 
in  half -mourning,  except  one  little  lady  of  about  ten  years  old, 
whose  form  was  enveloped  in  black  bombazine  and  crape,  and 
whose  face,  what  could  be  seen  of  it,  was  drowned  in  tears. 
It  needed  no  seer  to  tell  that  she  was  just  left  motherless,  and 
placed  in  charge  of  her  relations. 

After  undergoing  the  scrutiny  of  the  congregation,  this 
family  was  unanimously,  though  silently,  voted  to  be  perfectly 
respectable. 

CHAPTER  XXI. 
ishmael's  adventure. 

I  almost  fancy  that  the  more 

He  was  cast  out  from  men, 
Nature  had  made  him  of  her  store 

A  worthier  denizen; 
As  if  it  pleased  her  to  caress 

A  plant  grown  np  so  wild, 
As  if  his  Ijeing  pareutless 

Had  made  him  more  her  child. 

— Monckton  MihteS, 

At  twelve  years  of  age  Ishmael  was  a  tall,  thin,  delicate-look- 
ing lad,  with  regular  features,  pale  complexion,  fair  hair,  and 
blue  eyes.  His  great,  broad  forehead  and  wasted  cheeks  gave 
his  face  almost  a  triangular  shape.  The  truth  is,  that  up  to 
this  age  the  boy  had  never  had  enough  food  to  nourish  the 


ishmael's  ad  venture.  177 

healthy  growth  of  the  body.  And  that  he  lived  at  all  was 
probably  due  to  some  great  original  vital  force  in  his  organiza- 
tion, and  also  to  the  purity  of  his  native  air,  of  which  at  least 
he  got  a  plenty. 

He  had  learned  all  the  professor  could  teach  him;  had 
read  all  the  books  that  Morris  could  lend  him;  and  was  now 
hungering  and  thirsting  for  more  knowledge.  At  this  time  a 
book  had  such  a  fascination  for  Ishmael  that  when  he  happened 
to  be  at  Baymouth  he  would  stand  gazing,  spellbound,  at  the 
volumes  exposed  for  sale  in  the  shop  windows,  just  as  other 
hoys  gaze  at  toys  and  sweetmeats. 

But  little  time  had  the  poor  lad  for  such  peeps  into  Paradise, 
for  he  was  now  earning  about  a  dollar  a  week,  as  Assistant- 
Professor  of  Odd  Jobs  to  Jem  Morris,  and  his  professional 
duties  kept  him  very  busy. 

BajTnouth  had  progressed  in  all  these  years,  and  now  actually 
boasted  a  fine  new  shop,  with  this  sign  over  the  door : 

Book,  Stationery,  and  Fancy  Bazaar. 

And  this  to  Ishmael  seemed  a  very  fairy  palace.  It  attracted 
him  with  an  irresistible  glamour. 

It  happened  one  burning  Saturday  afternoon  in  August  that 
the  boy,  having  a  half-holiday,  resolved  to  make  the  most  of 
it  and  enjoy  himself  by  walking  to  Baymouth  and  standing 
before  that  shop  to  gaze  at  his  leisure  upon  the  marvels  of 
literature  displayed  in  its  windows. 

The  unshaded  village  street  was  hot  and  dusty,  and  the  un- 
clouded August  sun  was  blazing  down  upon  it ;  but  Islunael  did 
not  mind  that,  as  he  stood  devouring  with  his  eyes  the  unat- 
tainable books. 

While  he  was  thus  occupied,  a  small,  oTjen,  one-horse  car- 
riage drove  up  and  stopped  before  the  shop  door.  The  gentle- 
man who  had  driven  it  alighted  and  handed  out  a  lady  and  a 
little  girl  in  deep  mourning.  The  lady  and  the  little  girl 
passed  immediately  into  the  shop.  And  oh!  how  Ishmael  en- 
vied them !  They  were  perhaps  going  to  buy  some  of  those 
beautiful  books! 

The  gentleman  paused  with  the  reins  in  his  hands,  and 
looked  up  and  down  the  bare  street,  as  if  in  search  of  some  per- 
son. At  last,  in  withdrawing  his  eyes,  they  fell  upon  Ishmael, 
and  he  called  him. 

The  boy  hastened  to  his  side. 


178  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

"  My  lad,  do  you  tliink  you  can  hold  my  horse  ?  '* 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir." 

*'  Well,  and  can  you  lead  him  out  of  the  road  to  that  stream 
there  under  the  trees,  and  let  him  drink  and  rest  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Very  well,  go  on,  then,  and  mind  and  watch  the  carriage 
well,  v/hile  we  are  in  the  shop;  because,  you  see,  there  are 
tempting  parcels  in  it." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  again  said  the  boy. 

The  gentleman  gave  him  the  reins  and  followed  the  ladies 
into  the  shop.  And  Ishmael  led  the  horse  off  to  the  grove 
stream,  a  place  much  frequented  by  visitors  at  Baymouth  to 
rest  and  water  their  horses. 

The  thirsty  horse  had  drank  his  fill,  and  the  kind  boy  was 
engaged  in  rubbing  him  dovsm  with  cool,  fresh  dock  leaves, 
when  a  voice  near  the  carriage  attracted  Ishmael's  attention. 

"  Oh,  cricky,  Ben !  if  here  isn't  old  Middy's  pony-chaise 
standing  all  alone,  and  full  of  good  nuggs  he's  been  a  buying 
for  that  tea-party!     Come,  let's  have  our  share  beforehand." 

Ishmael  who  was  partly  concealed  by  his  stooping  position 
behind  the  horse,  now  raised  his  head,  and  saw  two  young  gen- 
tlemen of  about  twelve  and  fourteen  years  of  age,  whom  he 
recognized  as  the  sons  of  Commodore  Burghe,  by  having  seen 
them  often  at  church  in  the  commodore's  pew. 

"  Oh,  I  say,  Ben,  here's  a  hamper  chock  full  of  oranges  and 
"figs  and  nuts  ai>d  raisins  and  things!  let's  get  at  them,"  said 
the  elder  boy,  who  had  climbed  upon  one  wheel  and  was  looking 
into  the  carriage. 

"  Oh,  no,  Alf !  don't  meddle  with  them !  Mr.  Middleton  would 
be  mad,''  replic^  the  younger. 

"  Who  cares  if  he  is  ?  Who's  afraid  ?  ISTot  I !  "  exclaimed 
Alf,  tearing  off  the  top  of  the  hamper  and  helping  himseK. 

All  this  passed  in  the  instant  that  Ishmael  was  rising  up. 

"  You  must  not  touch  those  things,  young  gentlemen !  You 
must  not,  indeed!  Put  those  figs  back  again.  Master  Alfred," 
lie  said. 

"  Who  the  blazes  are  you,  pray  ? "  inquired  Master  Alfred 
contemptously,  as  he  coolly  proceeded  to  fill  his  pockets. 

"  I  am  Ishmael  Worth,  and  I  am  set  here  to  watch  this  horse 
and  carriage,  and  I  mean  to  do  it!  Put  those  figs  back  again. 
Master  Alfred." 

"  Oh !  you  are  Ishmael  Worth,  are  you  ?    The  weaver  woman's 


ishmael's  adventure.  179 

boy  and  Jem  Morrises  'prentice !  Ha,ppy  to  know  you,  sir ! " 
said  the  lad  sarcastically,  as  he  deliberately  spread  his  hand- 
kerchief on  the  ground  and  began  to  fill  it  with  English 
walnuts. 

"  Eetum  those  things  to  the  hamper,  Master  Alfred,  while 
times  are  good,"  said  Ishmael  slowly  and  distinctly. 

"  Oh,  I  say,  Ben,  isn't  he  a  nice  one  to  make  acquaintance 
with?  Let's  ask  him  to  dinner!"  jeered  the  boy,  helping  him- 
self to  more  walnuts. 

"  You  had  better  return  those  things  before  worse  comes  of 
it,"  said  Ishmael,  slowly  pulling  off  his  little  jacket  and  care- 
fully folding  it  up  and  laying  it  on  the  ground. 

"  I  say,  Ben !  Jem  Morris's  apprentice  is  going  to  fight ! 
Ar'n't  you  scared  ? "  sneered  Master  Alfred,  tying  up  his  hand- 
kerchief full  of  nuts. 

"  Will  you  return  those  things  or  not  ?  "  exclaimed  Ishmael, 
unbuttoning  his  little  shirt  collar  and  rolling  up  his  sleeves. 

"  Will  you  tell  me  who  was  your  father  ? "  mocked  Master 
Alfred. 

That  question  was  answered  by  a  blow  dashed  full  in  the 
mouth  of  the  questioner,  followed  instantly  by  another  blow 
into  his  right  eye  and  a  third  into  his  left.  Then  Ishmael 
seized  him  by  the  collar  and,  twisting  it,  choked  and  shook  him 
until  he  dropped  his  plunder.  But  it  was  only  th«  suddenness 
of  the  assault  that  had  given  Ishmael  a  moment'?  advantage. 
The  contest  was  too  unequal.  As  soon  as  Master  Alfred  had 
dropped  his  plunder  he  seized  his  assailant.  Ben  also  rushed 
to  the  rescue.  It  was  unfair,  two  boys  upon  one.  They  soon. 
threw  Ishmael  down  upon  the  ground  and  beat  his  breath 
nearly  out  of  his  body.  They  were  so  absorbed  in  their  cowardly 
work  that  they  were  unconscious  of  the  approach  of  the  party 
from  the  shop,  until  the  gentleman  left  the  ladies  and  hurried 
to  the  scene  of  action,  exclaiming: 

"What's  this?  What's  this?  What's  all  this,  young  gentle- 
men ?     Let  that  poor  lad  alone !     Shame  on  you  both !  " 

The  two  culprits  ceased  their  blows  and  started  up  pfinic- 
stricken.  But  only  for  a  moment.  The  ready  and  reckless 
falsehood  sprang  to  Alfred's  lips. 

"  Why,  sir,  you  see,  we  were  wall^ing  along  and  saw  jpvlf 
carriage  standing  here  and  saw  that  boy  stealing  the  fruit  and 
nuts  from  it.  And  we  ordered  him  to  stop  and  he  wouldn't,, 
and  we  pitched  into  hiic  and  beat  him.    Didn't  -wp-  Pen  ? " 


180  ishmael;  oe,  iit  the  depths. 

"  Yes,  we  beat  him,"  said  Ben  evasively. 

"  Humph !  And  he  stole  the  very  articles  that  he  v?as  put 
liere  to  guard !  Sad !  sad !  but  the  fault  was  mine !  He  is  but 
a  child !  a  poor  child,  and  vs^as  most  likely  hungry.  I  should  not 
have  left  the  fruit  right  under  his  keen  young  nose  to  tempt 
him!  Boys,  you  did  very  wrong  to  beat  him  so!  You,  who 
are  pampered  so  much,  know  little  of  the  severe  privations 
and  great  temptations  of  the  poor.  And  we  cannot  expect 
children  to  resist  their  natural  appetites,"  said  the  gentleman 
gently,  as  he  stooped  to  examine  the  condition  of  the  fallen 
boy. 

Ishmael  was  half  stunned,  exhausted,  and  bleeding;  but  his 
confused  senses  had  gathered  the  meaning  of  the  false  accusa- 
tion made  against  him.  And,  through  the  blood  bursting  from. 
Ms  mouth,  he  gurgled  forth  the  words: 

"  1  didn't,  sir !     The  Lord  above,  he  knows  I  didn't !  " 

"He  did!  he  did!     Didn't  he,  Ben?"  cried  Master  Alfred. 

Ben  was  silent. 

"  And  we  beat  him !  Didn't  we,  Ben  ? "  questioned  the 
young  villain,  who  well  understood  his  weak  yoiuiger  brother. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Ben,  who  was  always  willing  to  oblige  his 
elder  brother  if  he  could  do  so  without  telling  an  out  and  out 
falsehood ;  "  we  did  beat  him." 

The  gentleman  raised  the  battered  boy  to  his  feet,  took  a 
look  at  him  and  murmured  to  himself: 

"  Well !  if  this  lad  is  a  thief  and  a  liar,  there  is  no  truth 
in  phrenology  or  physiognomy  either." 

Then,  speaking  aloud,  he  said: 

"  My  boy !  I  am  very  sorry  for  what  has  just  happened  !  You 
■were  placed  here  to  guard  my  property.  You  betrayed  your 
trust!  You,  yourself,  stole  it!  And  you  have  told  a  falsehood 
to  conceal  your  theft.  No !  do  not  attempt  to  deny  it !  Here 
are  two  young  gentlemen  of  position  who  are  witnesses  against 
you!" 

Ishmael  attempted  to  gurgle  some  denial,  but  his  voice  was 
drowned  in  the  blood  that  still  filled  his  mouth. 

"  My  poor  boy,"  continued  the  gentleman — "  for  I  see  you 
are  poor,  if  you  had  simply  eaten  the  fruit  and  nuts,  that  would 
liave  been  wrong  certainly,  being  a  breach  of  trust ;  but  it  would 
Lave  been  almost  excusable,  for  you  might  have  been  hungry 
and  6een  tempted  by  the  smell  of  the  fruit  and  by  the  oppor- 
tunity of  tasting  it.     And  if  you  had  confessed  it  frankly,  I 


ishmael's  adventuke.  181 

sliould  as  frankly  have  forgiven  you.  But  I  am  sorry  to  say 
that  you  have  attempted  to  conceal  your  fault  by  falsehood. 
And  do  you  know  what  that  falsehood  has  done?  It  has  con- 
verted the  act,  that  I  should  have  construed  as  mere  trespass, 
into  a  theft!" 

Ishmael  stooped  down  and  bathed  his  bloody  face  in  the 
stream  and  then  wiped  it  clean  with  his  coarse  pocket  hand- 
kerchief. And  then  he  raised  his  head  with  a  childish  dignity; 
most  wonderful  to  see,  and  said: 

"  Listen  to  me,  sir,  if  you  please.  I  did  not  take  the  fruit 
or  the  nuts,  or  anything  that  was  yours.  It  is  true,  sir,  as  you 
said,  that  I  am  poor.  And  I  was  hungry,  very  hungry  indeed, 
because  I  have  had  nothing  to  eat  since  six  o'clock  this  morn- 
ing. And  the  oranges  and  figs  did  smell  nice,  and  I  did  want 
them  very  much.  But  I  did  not  touch  them,  sir !  I  could  better 
bear  hunger  than  I  could  bear  shame !  And  I  should  have  suf- 
fered shame  if  I  had  taken  your  things !  Yes,  even  though  you 
might  have  never  found  out  the  loss  of  them.  Because — I 
should  have  known  myself  to  be  a  thief,  and  I  could  not  have 
borne  that,  sir!  I  did  not  take  your  property,  sir,  I  hope  you 
will  believe  me." 

''  He  did !  he  did !  he  did  1  didn't  he  now,  Ben  ? "  cried  Alfred. 

Ben  was  silent. 

*'■  And  we  beat  him  for  it,  didn't  we,  Ben  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Ben. 

"  There  now  you  see,  my  boy !  I  would  be  glad  to  believe  you ; 
but  here  are  two  witnesses  against, you!  two  young  gentlemen 
of  rank,  who  would  not  stoop  to  falsehood ! "  said  the  gentle- 
man sadly. 

"  Sir,"  replied  Ishmael  calmly,  "  be  pleased  to  listen  to  me, 
while  I  tell  you  what  really  happened.  When  you  left  me  in 
charge  of  this  horse  I  led  him  to  this  stream  and  gave  him 
water,  and  I  was  rubbing  him  do-mi  with  a  handful  of  fresh 
dock-leaves  when  these  two  young  gentlemen  came  up.  And  the 
elder  one  proposed  to  help  himself  to  the  contents  of  the  ham- 
per. But  the  younger  one  would  not  agree  to  the  plan.  And 
I,  for  my  part,  told  him  to  let  the  things  alcne.  But  he  wouldn't 
mind  me.  I  insisted,  but  he  laughed  at  me  and  helped  himself 
to  the  oranges,  figs,  walnuts,  and  raisins.  I  told  him  to  put 
them  back  directly;  but  he  wouldn't.  And  then  I  struck  him 
and  collared  him,  sir;  for  I  thought  it  was  my  duty  to  fight 
for  the  property  that  had  been  left  in  my  care.    But  he  waa 


182  ishmael;  oe,  iif  the  depths. 

bigger  than  I  was,  and  his  brother  came  to  help  him,  and  they 
were  too  many  for  me,  and  between  them  they  threw  me  down. 
And  then  you  came  up.    And  that  is  the  whole  truth,  sir." 

"  It  isn't  1  it  isn't !  He  stole  the  things,  and  now  he  wants 
'to  lay  it  on  us !  that  is  the  worst  of  all !  But  we  can  prove  that 
he  did  it,  because  we  are  two  witnesses  against  one ! "  said 
Master  Alfred  excitedly. 

"  Yes ;  that  is  the  worst  of  all,  my  boy ;  it  was  bad  to  take 
the  things,  but  you  were  tempted  by  hunger;  it  was  worse  to 
deny  the  act,  but  you  were  tempted  by  fear;  it  is  the  worst 
of  all  to  try  to  lay  your  fault  upon  the  shoulders  of  others.  I 
fear  I  shall  be  obliged  to  punish  you,"  said  the  gentleman. 

"  Sir,  punish  me  for  the  loss  of  the  fruit  if  you  please;  but 
laelieve  me;  for  I  speak  the  truth,"  said  Ishmael  firmly. 

At  that  moment  he  felt  a  little  soft  hand  steal  into  his  own, 
and  heard  a  gentle  voice  whisper  in  his  ear: 

"  I  believe  you,  poor  boy,  if  they  don't." 

He  turned,  and  saw  at  his  side  the  little  orphan  girl  in  deep 
mourning.  She  was  a  stately  little  lady,  with  black  eyes  and 
black  ringlets,  and  with  the  air  of  a  little  princess. 

"  Come,  Claudia !  Come  away,  my  love,"  said  the  lady,  who 
had  just  arrived  at  the  spot. 

"  No,  aunt,  if  you  please ;  I  am  going  to  stand  by  this  poor 
hoy  here !  He  has  got  no  friend !  He  is  telling  the  truth,  and 
nobody  will  believe  him ! "  said  the  little  girl,  tossing  her  head, 
and  shaking  back  her  black  ringlets  haughtily. 

It  was  easy  to  see  that  this  little  lady  had  had  her  own  royal 
•will,  ever  since  she  was  one  day  old,  and  cried  for  a  light  until 
it  was  brought. 

"  Claudia,  Claudia,  you  are  very  naughty  to  disobey  your 
aunt,"  said  the  gentleman  gravely. 

The  little  lady  lifted  her  jetty  eyebrows  in  simple  surprise. 

"  '  Naughty,'  uncle !  How  can  you  say  such  things  to  me  ? 
IMamma  never  did ;  and  papa  never  does !  Pray  do  not  say  such 
things  again  to  me,  uncle !    I  have  not  been  used  to  hear  them." 

The  gentleman  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  tvirned  to  Ish- 
mael, saying: 

"I  aim  more  grieved  than  angry,  my  boy,  to  see  you  stand 
convicted  of  theft  and  falsehood." 

"I  was  never  guilty  of  either  in  my  life,  sir,"  said  Ishmael. 

"  He  was !  he  was !  He  stole  the  things,  and  then  told  stories 
about  it,  and  tried  to  lay  it  on  us!    But  we  can  prove  it  was 


ISHMAEL   GAIIfS    HIS   FIRST   VEEDICT.  183 

iiiniself!  We  are  two  witnesses  against  one!  two  genteel  wit- 
nesses against  one  low  one !  We  are  gentleman's  sons ;  and  who 
is  he  ?  He's  a  thief !  He  stole  the  things,  didn't  he,  Ben  ?  '* 
questioned  Master  Alfred. 

Ben  turned  away. 

"  And  we  thrashed  him  well  for  it,  didn't  we,  Ben  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Ben. 

"  So  you  see,  sir,  it  is  true !  there  are  two  witnesses  against 
you;  do  not  therefore  make  your  case  quite  hopeless  by  a  per- 
sistence in  falsehood,''  said  the  gentleman,  speaking  sternly  for 
the  first  time. 

Ishmael  dropped  his  head,  and  the  Burghe  boys  laughed. 

Little  Claudia's  eyes  blazed. 

*'  Shame  on  you,  Alfred  Burghe  t  and  you  too,  Ben !  I  know 
that  you  have  told  stories  yourselves,  for  I  see  it  in  both  your 
faces,  just  as  I  see  that  this  poor  boy  has  told  the  truth  by  his 
face !  "  she  exclaimed.  Then  putting  her  arm  around  Ishmael's 
neck  in  the  tender,  motherly  way  that  such  little  women  will 
use  to  boys  in  distress,  she  said: 

"  There !  hold  up  your  head,  and  look  them  in  the  face.  It 
is  true,  they  are  all  against  you;  but,  then,  what  of  that,  when. 
I  am  on  your  side.  It  is  a  great  thing,  let  me  tell  you,  to  have 
me  on  your  side.  I  am  Miss  Merlin,  my  father's  heiress; 
and  he  is  the  Chief  Justice  of  the  Supreme  Court.  And  I  am 
not  sure  but  that  I  might  make  my  papa  have  these  two  bad  boys 
hanged  if  I  insisted  upon  it!  And  I  stand  by  you  because  I 
know  you  are  telling  the  truth,  and  because  my  mamma  always 
told  me  it  would  be  my  duty,  as  the  first  lady  in  the  country, 
to  protect  the  poor  and  the  persecuted !  So  hold  up  your  head, 
and  look  them  in  the  face,  and  answer  them !  "  said  the  young 
lady,  throwing  up  her  own  head  and  shaking  back  her  rich 
ringlets. 

CHAPTEK  XXn. 

ISHMAEL  GAINS  HIS  FIRST  VERDICT. 

Honor  and  shame  from  no  condition  rise; 
Act  well  your  part,  there  all  the  honor  liea. 
Worth  makes  the  man,  and  want  of  it  the  fellow. 
The  rest  is  all  but  leather  and  prunella. 

— Pope. 

So  conjured,  Ishmael  lifted  his  face  and  confronted  his  ac- 
cusers. It  was  truth  and  intellect  encountering  falsehood  and 
■stupidity.    Who  could  doubt  the  issued 


\ 


184      ishmael;  or,  Ij^  the  depths. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  boy,  "  if  you  will  look  into  the  pockets  of 
that  young  gentleman.  Master  AKred,  you  will  find  the  stolen 
fruit  upon  him." 

Alfred  Burghe  started  and  turned  to  run.  But  the  gentleman 
was  too  quick  to  let  him  escape,  and  caught  him  by  the  arm. 

"  What,  sir !  Mr.  Middleton,  would  you  search  me  at  his  bid- 
ding? Search  the  son  of  Commodore  Burghe  at  the  bidding  of 
— nobody's  son  ?  "  exclaimed  the  youth,  struggling  to  free  him- 
Fslf,  while  the  blood  seemed  ready  to  burst  from  his  red  and 
swollen  face. 

"  For  your  vindication,  young  sir !  For  your  vindication," 
replied  Mr.  Middleton,  proceeding  to  turn  out  the  young  gen- 
tleman's pockets,  when  lo!  oranges,  figs,  and  nuts  rolled  upon 
the  ground. 

"  It  is  infamous — so  it  is !  "  exclaimed  Master  Alfred,  mad 
•with  shame  and  rage. 

"  Yes,  it  is  infamous,"  sternly  replied  Mr.  Middleton. 

"  I  mean  it  is  infamous  to  treat  a  commodore's  son  in  this 
way!" 

"  And  I  mean  it  is  infamous  in  anybody's  son  to  behave  as 
you  have,  sir !  " 

"  I  bought  the  things  at  Nutt's  shop !  I  bought  them  with 
my  own  money !  They  are  mine !  I  never  touched  your  things. 
That  fellow  did !  He  took  them,  and  then  told  falsehoods  about 
it." 

"  Sir,"  said  Ishmael,  "  if  you  will  examine  that  bundle,  lying 
tmder  that  bush,  you  will  find  something  there  to  prove  which 
of  us  two  speaks  the  truth." 

Master  Alfred  made  a  dash  for  the  bundle;  but  again  Mr. 
Middleton  was  too  quick  for  him,  and  caught  it  up.  It  was  a 
red  bandanna  silk  handkerchief  stuffed  full  of  parcels  and  tied 
at  the  corners.  The  handkerchief  had  the  name  of  Alfred 
Burghe  on  one  corner;  the  small  parcel  of  nuts  and  raisins 
it  contained  were  at  once  recognized  by  Mr.  Middleton  as  his 
own. 

"  Oh,  sir,  sir ! "  began  that  gentleman  severely,  turning  upon 
the  detected  culprit;  but  the  young  villain  was  at  bay! 

"  Well  ? "  he  growled  in  defiance ;  "  what  now  ?  what's  all 
the  muss  about  ?  Those  parcels  were  what  I  took  off  his  person 
when  he  was  running  away  with  them.    Didn't  I,  Ben  ?  " 

Ben  grumbled  some  inaudible  answer,  which  Alfred  assumed 
to  be  assent;,  for  he  immediately  added: 


ISnMAEL   GAn^S   HIS    FIKST    YEEDICT.  185 

**And  I  tied  them  up  in  my  handkerchief  to  give  them  back 
to  you.     Didn't  I,  Ben?" 

Ben  mumbled  something  or  other. 

"  And  then  I  beat  him  for  stealing.    Didn't  I,  Ben  ?  " 

"  Yes,  you  beat  him,"  sulkily  answered  the  younger  brother. 

Mr.  Middleton  gazed  at  the  two  boys  in  amazement;  not  that 
he  entertained  the  slightest  doubt  of  the  innocence  of  Ishmael 
and  the  guilt  of  Alfred,  but  that  he  was  simply  struck  with 
consternation  at  this  instance  of  haxdened  juvenile  depravity. 

"  Sir,"  continued  the  relentless  young  prosecutor,  "  if  you 
will  please  to  question  Master  Ben,  I  think  he  will  tell  you  the 
truth.     lie  has  not  told  a  downright  story  yet." 

"What!  why  he  has  been  corroborating  his  brother's  testi- 
mony all  along !  "  said  Mr.  Middleton. 

"Only  as  to  the  assault,  sir;  not  as  to  the  theft.  Please 
question  him,  sir,  to  finish  this  business." 

"  I  will !  Ben,  who  stole  the  fruit  and  nuts  from  my  car- 
riage ? " 

Ben  dug  his  hands  into  his  pockets  and  turned  sullenly  away. 

"  Did  this  poor  boy  steal  them  ?  For  if  I  find  he  did,  I  will 
send  him  to  prison.  And  I  know  you  wouldn't  like  to  see  an 
innocent  boy  sent  to  prison.  So  tell  me  the  truth.  Did  he,  or 
did  he  not,  steal  the  articles  in  question  ? " 

"  He  did  not ;  not  so  much  as  one  of  them,"  replied  the 
younger  Burghe. 

"Did  Alfred  take  them?" 

Ben  was  sullenly  silent. 

"  Did  Alfred  take  them  ?  "  repeated  Mr.  Middleton. 

"  I  won't  tell  you !  So  there  now !  I  told  you  tJtiat  fellow 
didn't!  but  I  won't  tell  you  who  did!  It  is  real  hard  of  you 
to  want  me  to  tell  on  my  owti  brother !  "  exclaimed  Master 
Ben,  walking  off  indignantly. 

"  That  is  enough ;  indeed  the  finding  of  the  articles  upon 
Alfred's  person  was  enough,"  said  Mr.  Middleton. 

"  I  think  this  poor  boy's  word  ought  to  have  been  enough ! " 
said  Claudia. 

"And  now,  sir!"  continued  Mr.  Middleton,  turning  to  Mas- 
ter Burghe ;  "  you  have  been  convicted  of  theft,  falsehood,  and 
cowardice — yes,  and  of  the  meanest  falsehood  and  the  basest 
cowardice  I  ever  heard  of.  Under  these  circumstances,  I  can- 
not permit  your  future,  attendance  upon  my  school.  You  are 
no  longer  a  proper  companion  for  my  pupils.     To-morrow  I 


186  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

s"hall  call  upon  your  father,  to  tell  him  what  has  happened  and 
advise  him  to  send  you  to  sea,  under  some  strict  captain,  for  a 
three  or  five  years'  cruise !  " 

"  If  you  blow  me  to  the  governor,  I'll  be  shot  to  death  if  I 
don't  knife  you,  old  fellow ! "  roared  the  young  reprobate. 

"  Begone,  sir ! "  was  the  answer  of  Mr.  Middleton. 

"  Oh,  I  can  go !  But  you  look  out !  You're  all  a  set  of  radi- 
cals, anyhow!  making  equals  of  all  the  rag,  tag,  and  bobtail 
about.  Look  at  Claudia  there !  What  would  Judge  Merlin  say 
if  he  was  to  see  his  daughter  with  her  arm  around  that  boy's 
neck ! " 

Claudia's  eyes  kindled  dangerously,  and  she  m.ade  one  step 
towards  the  offender,  saying: 

"  Hark  you.  Master  Alfred  Burghe.  Don't  you  dare  to  take 
my  name  between  your  lips  again!  and  don't  you  dare  to  come 
near  me  as  long  as  you  live,  or  even  to  say  to  anybody  that  you 
■were  ever  acquainted  with  me !  If  you  do  I  will  make  my  papa 
Lave  you  hanged!  For  I  do  not  choose  to  know  a  thief,  liar, 
and  coward!" 

"  Claudia !  Claudia !  Claudia !  You  shock  me  beyond  all 
measure,  my  dear ! "  exclaimed  the  lady  in  a  tone  of  real  pain ; 
and  then  lowering  her  voice  she  whispered — " '  Thief,  liar, 
coward ! '  what  shocking  words  to  issue  from  a  young  lady's 
lips." 

"  I  know  they  are  not  nice  words,  Aunt  Middleton,  and  if 
you  will  only  teach  me  nicer  ones  I  will  use  them  instead.  But 
are  there  any  pretty  words  for  ugly  tricks  ? " 

As  this  question  was  a  "poser"  that  Mrs.  Middleton  did 
not  attempt  to  answer,  the  little  lady  continued  very  demurely: 

"  I  will  look  in  '  Webster '  when  I  get  home  and  see  if  there 
are." 

"  My  boy,"  said  Mr.  Middleton,  approaching  our  lad,  "  I  have 
accused  you  wrongfully.  I  am  sorry  for  it  and  beg  your 
pardon." 

Ishmael  looked  up  in  surprise  and  with  an  "  Oh,  sir,  please 
don't,"  blushed  and  hung  his  head.  It  seemed  really  dreadful 
to  this  poor  boy  that  this  grave  and  dignified  gentleman  should 
ask  his  pardon!  And  yet  Mr.  Middleton  lost  no  dignity  in 
this  simple  act,  because  it  was  right;  he  had  wronged  the  poor 
lad,  and  owed  an  apology  just  as  much  as  if  he  had  wronged 
the  greatest  man  in  the  country. 

"And  now,  my  boy,"  continued  the  gentleman,  "be  always 


ISHMAEL    GAINS   HIS    FIEST    VEEDICT.  187 

as  honest,  as  truthful,  and  as  fearless  as  you  have  shown  your- 
self to-day,  and  though  your  lot  in  life  may  be  very  humble- 
aye,  of  the  very  humblest — yet  you  will  be  respected  in  your 
lowly  sphere."  Here  the  speaker  opened  his  portmonnaie  and 
took  from  it  a  silver  dollar,  saying,  "  Take  this,  my  boy,  not 
as  a  reward  for  your  integrity, — that,  understand,  is  a  matter 
of  more  worth  than  to  be  rewarded  with  money, — but  simply 
as  pa^yment  for  your  time  and  trouble  in  defending  my 
property." 

"  Oh,  sir,  please  don't.  I  really  don't  want  the  money,"  said 
Ishmael,  shrinking  from  the  offered  coin. 

"  Oh,  nonsense,  my  boy !  You  must  be  paid,  you  know,"  said 
Mr.  Middleton,  urging  the  dollar  upon  him. 

"  But  I  do  not  want  pay  for  a  mere  act  of  civility,"  per- 
sisted Ishmael,  drawing  back. 

"  But  your  time  and  trouble,  child ;  they  are  money  to  lads 
in  your  line  of  life." 

"  If  you  please,  sir,  it  was  a  holiday,  and  I  had  nothing  else 
to  do." 

"  But  take  this  to  oblige  me." 

"  Indeed,  sir,  I  don't  want  it.  The  professor  is  very  free- 
hearted and  pays  me  well  for  my  work." 

"  The  professor  ?  What  professor,  my  boy  ?  I  thought  I  had 
the  honor  to  be  the  only  professor  in  the  neighborhood,"  said 
the  gentleman,  smiling. 

"  I  mean  Professor  Jim  Morris,  sir,"  replied  Ishmael,  in  per- 
fect good  faith. 

"  Oh !  yes,  exactly ;  I  have  heard  of  that  ingenious  and  use- 
ful individual,  who  seems  to  have  served  his  time  at  all  trades, 
and  takem  degrees  in  all  arts  and  sciences;  but  I  did  not  know 
he  was  called  a  professor.  So  you  are  a  student  in  his  col- 
lege !  "  smiled  Mr.  Middleton. 

"  I  help  him,  sir,  and  he  pays  me,"  answered  the  boy. 

"  And  what  is  your  name,  my  good  little  fellow  ?  " 

"  Ishmael  Worth,  sir." 

"  Oh,  yes,  exactly ;  you  are  the  son  of  the  little  weaver  up  on 
Hut  Hill,  just  across  the  valley  from  Brudenell  Heights?" 

"I  am  her  nephew,  sir." 

"  Are  your  parents  living  ?  " 

"1^0,  sir;  I  have  been  an  orphan  from  my  birth." 

"Poor  boy!  And  you  are  depending  on  your  aunt  for  S 
home,  and  on  your  own  labor  for  a  support  ? " 


188      ishmael;  oe,  in  the  depths. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Well,  Ishmael,  as  you  very  riglitly  take  pay  from  mj 
brother  professor,  I  do  not  know  why  you  should  refuse  it 
from  me." 

Ishmael  perhaps  could  not  answer  that  question  to  his  own 
satisfaction.  At  all  events,  he  hesitated  a  moment  before  he 
replied : 

"  Why,  you  see,  sir,  what  I  do  for  the  other  professor  is  all 
in  the  line  of  my  business;  but  ^he  small  service  I  have  done 
for  you  is  only  a  little  bit  of  ci'^'dity  that  I  am  always  so  glad 
to  show  to  any  gentleman — I  m'*v'an  to  anybody  at  all,  sir;  even 
a  poor  wagoner,  I  often  hold  lorses  for  them,  sir!  And,  bless 
you,  they  couldn't  pay  me  a  pinny." 

"  But  I  can,  my  boy!  and  besides  you  not  only  held  my  horse, 
^nd  watered  him,  and  rubbe('.  him  dovpn,  and  watched  my  car- 
riage, but  you  fought  a  stout  battle  in  defense  of  my  goods, 
and  got  yourself  badly  bru  sed  by  the  thieves,  and  unjustly 
accused  by  me.  Certainly,  it  is  a  poor  offering  I  make  in  re- 
turn for  your  services  and  sufferings  in  my  interests.  Here, 
my  lad,  I  have  thought  better  of  it ;  here  is  a  half  eagle.  Take 
it  and  buy  something  for  yourself." 

"  Indeed,  indeed,  sir,  I  cannot.  Please  don't  keep  on  asking 
me,"  persisted  Ishmael,  drawing  back  with  a  look  of  distress 
and  almost  of  reproach  on  his  fine  face. 

Now,  why  could  not  the  little  fellow  take  the  money  that 
was  pressed  upon  him?  He  wanted  it  badly  enough,  Heaven 
knows!  His  best  clothes  were  all  patches,  and  this  five  dollar 
gold  piece  would  have  bought  him  a  new  suit.  And  besides 
there  was  an  "  Illustrated  History  of  the  United  States "  in 
that  book-shop,  thai  really  and  truly  Ishmael  would  have  been 
willing  to  give  a  finger  off  either  of  his  hands  to  possess;  and 
its  price  was  just  three  dollars.  ISTow,  why  didn't  the  little 
wretch  take  the  money  and  buy  the  beautiful  book  with  which 
his  whole  soul  was  enamored?  Tba  poor  child  did  not  know 
himself.  But  you  and  I  know,  reader,  don't  we?  We  know 
that  he  could  not  take  the  money,  with  the  arm  of  that  black- 
eyed  little  lady  around  his  neck! 

Yes,  the  arm  of  Claudia  was  still  most  tenderly  and  protect- 
ingly  encircling  his  neck,  and  every  few  minutes  g1  e  would 
draw  down  his  rough  head  caressingly  to  her  ovm.  damask 
cheek. 

Shocking,  wasn't  it?     And  you  wonder  how  her  aimt  and 


ISHMAEL    GAINS    HIS    FIRST   VERDICT.  189 

■uncle  could  have  stood  by  and  permitted  it.  Because  they 
couldn't  help  it.  Miss  Claudia  was  a  little  lady,  angel  born,  who 
had  never  been  contradicted  in  her  life.  Her  father  was  a 
crochety  old  fellow,  with  a  "  theory,"  one  result  of  which  was 
that  he  let  his  trees  and  his  daughter  grow  up  unpruned  as 
they  liked. 

But  do  not  mistake  Miss  Claudia,  or  think  her  any  better 
or  any  worse  than  she  really  was.  Her  caresses  of  the  peasant 
boy  looked  as  if  she  was  republican  in  her  principles  and  "  fast " 
in  her  manners.  She  was  neither  the  one  nor  the  other.  So 
far  from  being  republican,  she  was  just  the  most  ingrained 
little  aristocrat  that  ever  lived!  She  was  an  aristocrat  from 
the  crown  of  her  little,  black,  ringletted  head  to  the  sole  of  her 
tiny,  gaitered  foot;  from,  her  heart's  core  to  her  scarf-skin;  so 
perfect  an  aristocrat  that  she  was  quite  unconscious  of  being 
so.  For  instance,  she  looked  upon  herself  as  very  little  lower 
than  the  angels;  and  upon  the  working  classes  as  very  little 
higher  than  the  brutes;  if  in  her  heart  she  acknowledged  that 
all  in  the  human  shape  were  human,  that  was  about  the  utmost 
extent  of  her  liberalism.  She  and  they  were  both  clay,  to  be 
sure,  but  she  was  of  the  finest  porcelain  clay  and  they  of  the 
coarsest  potter's  earth.  This  theory  had  not  been  taught  her, 
it  was  born  in  her,  and  so  entirely  natural  and  sincere  that 
she  was  almost  unconscious  of  its  existence;  certainly  unsus- 
picious of  its  fallacy. 

Thus,  you  see,  she  caressed  Tshmael  just  exactly  as  she  would 
liave  caressed  her  own  Newfoundland  dog;  she  defended  his 
truth  and  honesty  from  false  accusation  just  as  she  would  have 
defended  Fido's  from  a  similar  charge;  she  praised  his  fidelity 
and  courage  just  as  she  would  have  praised  Fido's;  for,  in  very 
truth,  she  rated  the  peasant  boy  not  one  v/hit  higher  than  the 
dog!  Had  she  been  a  degree  less  proud,  had  she  looked  upon 
Ishmael  as  a  human  being  vnth  like  popsions  and  emotions  as 
her  own,  she  might  have  been  more  reserved  in  her  manner.  But 
being  as  proud  as  she  was,  she  caressed  and  protected  the  noble 
peasant  boy  as  a  kind-hearted  little  lady  would  have  caressed 
and  protected  a  noble  specimen  of  the  canine  race !  Therefore, 
what  might  have  been  considered  very  forward  and  lowering 
in  another  little  lady,  was  perfectly  graceful  and  dignified  in 
Miss  Merlin. 

But,  meanwhile,  the  poor,  earnest,  enthusiastic  boy!  He 
didn't  know  that  she  rated  him  as  low  as  any  four-footed  pet! 


190  isbgviael;  oe,  in  the  depths. 

He  thouglit  she  appreciated  him,  very  highly,  too  highly,  as 
a  human  being !  And  his  great  little  heart  burned  and  glowed 
with  joy  and  gratitude!  And  he  would  no  more  have  taken  pay 
for  doing  her  uncle  a  service  than  he  would  have  picked  a  pocket 
or  robbed  a  henroost !  He  just  adored  her  lovely  clemency,  and 
he  was  even  turning  over  in  his  mind  the  problem  how  he, 
a  poor,  poor  boy,  hardly  able  to  afford  himself  a  halfpenny 
candle  to  read  by,  after  dark,  could  repay  her  kindness — what 
could  he  find,  invent,  or  achieve  to  please  her! 

Of  all  this  Miss  Claudia  only  understood  his  gratitude;  and 
it  pleased  her  as  the  gratitude  of  Fido  might  have  done. 

And  she  left  his  side  for  a  moment,  and  raised  herself  on  tip- 
toe and  whispered  to  her  uncle: 

"  Uncle,  he  is  a  noble  fellow — isn't  he,  now  ?  But  he  loves 
me  better  than  he  does  you.     So  let  me  give  him  something.'^ 

Mr.  Middleton  placed  the  five  dollar  piece  in  her  hand. 

"l^o,  no,  no — not  that!  Don't  you  see  it  hurts  his  feelings 
to  offer  him  that  ?  " 

"  Well— but  what  then?  " 

"  I'll  tell  you :  When  we  drove  up  to  Hamlin's  I  saw  him 
standing  before  the  shop,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  star- 
ing at  the  books  in  the  windows,  just  as  I  have  seen  hungry 
children  stare  at  the  tarts  and  cakes  in  a  pastry  cook's.  And 
I  know  he  is  hungry  for  a  book!  Now  uncle,  let  me  give  him 
a  book." 

"  Yes ;  but  had  not  I  better  give  it  to  him,  Claudia  ?  " 

"  Oh,  if  you  like,  and  he'll  take  it  from  you !  But,  you 
know,  there's  Fido  now,  who  sometimes  gets  contrary,  and 
won't  take  anything  from  your  hand,  but  no  matter  how  con- 
trary he  is,  will  always  take  anything  from  mine.  But  you 
may  try,  uncle — you  may  try !  " 

This  conversation  was  carried  on  in  a  whisper.  When  it 
was  ended  Mr.  Middleton  turned  to  Ishmael  and  said : 

"  Very  well,  my  boy ;  I  can  but  respect  your  scruples.  Follow 
us  back  to  Hamlin's." 

And  so  saying,  he  helped  his  wife  and  his  niece  into  the 
pony  chaise,  got  in  himself,  and  took  the  reins  to  drive  on. 

Miss  Claudia  looked  back  and  watched  Ishmael  as  he  limped 
slowly  and  painfully  after  them.  The  distance  was  very  short, 
and  they  soon  reached  the  shop. 

"  Which  is  the  window  he  was  looking  in,  Claudia  ? "  in- 
quired Mr.  Middleton. 


ISHMAEL    GAI:N-S   HIS    FIRST   VEEDICT.  191 

"  This  one  on  the  left  hand,  Tincle." 

"Ah!  Come  here,  my  boy;  look  into  this  window  now,  and 
tell  me  which  of  these  books  you  would  a4vise  me  to  buy  for  a 
present  to  a  young  friend  of  mine  ? " 

The  poor  fellow  looked  up  with  so  much  perplexity  in  his 
face  at  the  idea  of  this  grave,  middle-aged  gentleman  asking 
advice  of  him,  that  Mr.  Middleton  hastened  to  say : 

"  The  reason  I  ask  you,  Ishmael,  is  because,  you  being  a  boy 
would  be  a  better  judge  of  another  boy's  tastes  than  an  old 
man  like  me  could  be.  So  now  judge  by  yourself,  and  tell  me 
which  book  you  think  would  please  my  young  friend  best. 
I>ook  at  them  all,  and  take  time." 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir.  But  I  don't  want  time !  Anybody  could  tell 
in  a  minute  which  book  a  boy  would  like !  " 

"Which,  then?" 

"  Oh,  this,  this,  this !  '  History  of  the  United  States,'  all  full 
of  pictures !  " 

"  But  here  is  '  Robinson  Crusoe,'  and  here  is  the  '  Arabian 
iNights  ' ;  why  not  choose  one  of  them  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  sir — don't !  They  are  about  people  that  never  lived, 
and  things  that  aren't  true;  and  though  they  are  very  inter- 
esting, I  know,  there  is  no  solid  satisfaction  in  them  like  there 
is  in  this " 

"  Well,  now  '  this.'  What  is  the  great  attraction  of  this  to 
a  boy?  Why,  it's  nothing  but  diy  history,"  said  Mr.  Middleton, 
with  an  amused  smile,  while  he  tried  to  "  pump  "  the  poor  lad. 

"  Oh,  sir,  but  there's  so  much  in  it !  There's  Captain  John 
Smith,  and  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  and  Jamestown,  and  Plymouth, 
and  the  Pilgrim  Fathers,  and  John  Hancock,  and  Patrick 
Henry,  and  George  Washington,  and  the  Declaration  of  In- 
dependence, and  Bunker's  Hill,  and  Yorktown !  Oh !  "  cried 
Ishmael  with  an  ardent  burst  of  enthusiasm. 

"  You  seem  to  know  already  a  deal  more  of  the  history  of 
our  country  than  some  of  my  first-class  young  gentlemen  have 
taken  the  trouble  to  learn,"  said  Mr.  Middleton,  in  surprise. 

"  Oh,  no,  I  don't,  sir.  I  know  no  more  than  what  I  have  read 
in  a  little  thin  book,  no  bigger  than  your  hand,  sir,  that  was 
lent  to  me  by  the  professor ;  but  I  know  by  that  how  much  good 
there  must  be  in  this,  sir." 

"  Ah !  a  taste  of  the.  dish  has  made  you  long  for  a  feast.'* 

"Sir?" 

"  Nothing,  my  boy,  but  that  I  shall  follow  your  advice  in  the 


192      ishmael;  oe,  in"  the  depths. 

selection  of  a  book,"  said  the  gentleman,  as  he  entered  the  shop. 
The  lady  and  the  little  girl  remained  in  the  carriage,  and 
Ishmael  stood  feasting  his  hungry  eyes  upon  the  books  in  the 
window. 

Presently  the  volume  he  admired  so  much  disappeared. 

"  There !  I  shall  never  see  it  any  more !  "  said  Ishmael,  with 
a  sigh;  "  but  I'm  glad  some  boy  is  going  to  get  it!  Oh,  won't 
he  be  happy  to-night,  though!  Wish  it  was  I!  No,  I  don't 
neither;  it's  a  sin  to  covet!" 

And  a  few  minutes  after  the  gentleman  emerged  from  the 
shop  with  an  oblong  packet  in  his  hand. 

"  It  was  the  last  copy  he  had  left,  my  boy,  and  I  have  secured 
it !  Now  do  you  really  think  my  young  friend  will  like  it  ? " 
asked  Mr.  Middleton. 

"  Oh,  sir,  won't  he  though,  neither ! "  exclaimed  Ishmael,  in 
sincere  hearty  sympathy  with  the  prospective  happiness  of 
another. 

"  Well,  then,  my  little  friend  must  take  it,"  said  Mr,  Middle- 
ton,  offering  the  packet  to  IshmaeL 

"  Sir !  "   exclaimed   the  latter. 

"  It  is  for  you,  my  boy." 

"  Oh,  sir,  I  couldn't  take  it,  indeed !  It  is  only  another  way  of 
paying  me  for  a  common  civility,"  said  Ishmael,  shrinking  from 
the  gift,  yet  longing  for  the  book. 

"  It  is  not ;  it  is  a  testimonial  of  my  regard  for  you,  my  boy ! 
Heceive  it  as  such." 

"I  do  not  deserve  such  a  testimonial,  and  cannot  receive  it, 
sir,"  persisted  Ishmael. 

"  There,  uncle,  I  told  you  so ! "  exclaimed  Claudia,  springing 
from  the  carriage  and  taking  the  book  from  the  hand  of  Mr. 
Middleton. 

She  went  to  the  side  of  Ishmael,  put  her  arm  around  his 
neck,  drew  his  head  down  against  hers,  leaned  her  bright  cheek 
against  his,  and  said : 

"  Come,  now,  talvo  the  book;  I  know  you  want  it;  take  it  like 
a  good  boy;  take  it  for  my  sake." 

Still  Ishmael  hesitated  a  little. 

Then  she  raised  the  parcel  and  pressed  it  to  her  lips  and 
handed  it  to  him  again,  saying: 

"  There,  now,  you  see  I've  kissed  it.  Fido  would  take  any- 
thing I  kissed ;  won't  you  ?  " 

Ishmael  now  held  out  his  hands  eagerly  for  the  prize,  took 


ISH]MAEL    GAINS   HIS    FIRST   VERDICT.  193 

it  and  pressed  it  to  his  jacket,  exclaiming  awkwardly  but  ear- 
nestly : 

"  Thank  you,  miss !  Oh,  thank  you  a  thousand,  thousand 
times,  miss!  You  don't  know  how  raucb  ^  wanted  this  book, 
and  how  glad  I  am ! " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  do.  I'm  a  witch,  and  Know  people's  secret 
thoughts.  But  why  didn't  you  take  the  book  when  uncle  offered 
it?" 

"  If  you  are  a  witch,  miss,  you  can  tell." 

"  So  I  can ;  it  was  because  you  don't  love  uncle  as  well  an 
you  love  me!  Well,  Fido  doesn't  either.  But  uncle  is  a  uiQe 
man  for  all  that." 

"  I  wonder  who  *  Fido '  is,"  thought  the  poor  boy.  "  I  do  won- 
der who  he  is;  her  brother,  I  suppose." 

"  Come,  Claudia,  my  Icve,  get  into  the  carriage ;  we  must  go 
home,"  said  Mr.  Middleton,  as  he  assisted  his  niece  to  her  seat. 

"I  thank  you  very  much,  sir,  for  this  very  beautiful  book," 
said  Ishmael,  going  up  to  Mr,  Middleton  and  taking  off  his  hat. 

"  You  are  very  welcome,  my  boy ;  so  run  home  now  and  enjoy 
it,"  replied  the  gentleman,  as  he  sprang  into  the  carriage  and 
took  the  reins. 

"  '  Run  home  ?  '  how  can  he  run  home,  uncle  ?  If  he  lives  at 
the  weaver's,  it  is  four  miles  off!  How  can  he  run  it,  or  even 
walk  it  ?  Don't  you  see  how  badly  hurt  he  is  ?  Why,  he  could 
scarcely  limp  from  the  pond  to  the  shop!  I  think  it  would  be 
only  kind,  uncle,  to  take  him  up  beside  you.  We  pass  close  to 
the  hut,  you  know,  in  going  home,  and  we  could  set  him  down." 

"  Come  along,  then,  my  little  fellow !  The  young  princess 
says  you  are  to  ride  home  with  us,  and  her  highness'  wishes 
are  not  to  be  disobeyed !  "  laughed  Mr.  Middleton,  holding  out 
his  hand  to  help  the  boy  into  the  carriage. 

Ishmael  made  no  objection  to  this  proposal:  but  eagerly 
clambered  up  to  the  offered  seat  beside  the  gentleman. 

The  reins  were  moved,  and  they  set  off  at  a  spanking  pace, 
and  were  soon  bowling  along  the  turnpike  road  that  made  a 
circuit  through  the  forest  toward  Brudenell  Heights. 

The  sun  had  set,  a  fresh  breeze  had  sprung  up,  and,  as  they 
were  driving  rapidly  in  the  eye  of  the  wind,  there  was  scarcely 
opportunity  for  conversation.  In  little  more  than  an  hour 
they  reached  a  point  in  the  road  within  a  few  hundred  yards  of 
the  weaver's  hut. 

"Here  we  are,  my  boy!     Now,  do  you  think  you  can  get 


194  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  US"   THE   DEPTHS. 

home  witliout  help  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Middleton,  as  he  stopped  tKe 
carriage. 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir,  thank  you !  "  replied  Ishmael,  as  he  clambered 
down  to  the  ground.  He  took  off  his  hat  beside  the  carriage, 
and  making  his  best  Sabbath-school  bow,  said: 

"Good-evening,  sir;  good-evening,  madam  and  miss,  and 
thank  you  very  much." 

"  Good-evening,  my  little  man ;  there  get  along  home  with 
you  out  of  the  night  air,"  said  Mr.  Middleton. 

Mrs.  Middleton  and  the  little  lady  nodded  and  smiled  their 
adieus. 

And  Ishmael  struck  into  the  narrow  and  half  hidden  foot- 
path that  led  from  the  highway  to  the  hut. 

The  carriage  started  on  its  way. 

"  A  rather  remarkable  boy,  that,"  said  Mr.  Middleton,  as 
they  drove  along  the  forest  road  encircling  the  crest  of  the  hills 
towards  Brudenell  Heights,  that  moonlit,  dewy  evening ;  "  a 
rather  remarkable  boy !  He  has  an  uncommonly  fine  head !  I 
should  really  like  to  examine  it!  The  intellect  and  moral  or- 
gans seem  wonderfully  developed!  I  really  should  like  to  ex- 
amine it  carefully  at  my  leisure." 

"He  has  a  fine  face,  if  it  were  not  so  pale  and  thin,"  said 
Mrs.  Middleton. 

"  Poor,  poor  fellow,"  said  Claudia,  in  a  tone  of  deep  pity, 
"he  is  thin  and  pale,  isn't  he?  And  Fido  is  so  fat  and  sleek! 
I'm  afraid  he  doesn't  get  enough  to  eat,  uncle !  " 

"Who,  Fido?" 

"]Sro,  the  other  one,  the  boy!  I  say  I'm  afraid  he  don't  get 
enough  to  eat.    Do  you  think  he  does  ?  " 

"  I — I'm  afraid  not,  my  dear !  " 

"  Then  I  think  it  is  a  shame,  uncle !  Rich  people  ought  not 
to  let  the  poor,  who  depend  upon  them,  starve!  Papa  says 
that  I  am  to  come  into  my  mamma's  fortune  as  soon  as  I  am 
eighteen.  When  I  do,  nobody  in  this  world  shall  want.  Every- 
body shall  have  as  much  as  ever  they  can  eat  three  times  a  day. 
Won't  that  be  nice?" 

"  Magnificent,  my  little  princess,  if  you  can  only  carry  out 
your  ideas,"  replied  her  uncle. 

"  Oh !  but  I  will !  I  will,  if  it  takes  every  dollar  of  my 
income!  My  mamma  told  me  that  when  I  grew  up  I  must  be 
the  mother  of  the  poor!  And  doesn't  a  mother  feed  her  chil- 
dren?" 


ISHMAEL    GAINS   HIS    FIRST   VERDICT.  195 

Middleton  laughed. 

"  And  as  for  that  poor  boy  on  the  hill,  he  shall  have  tarts 
and  cheese  cakes,  and  plum  pudding,  and  roast  turkey,  and  new 
books  every  day;  because  I  like  him;  I  like  him  so  much;  I 
like  him  better  than  I  do  anything  in  the  world  except  Fido ! " 

"  Well,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Middleton,  seizing  this  oppor- 
tunity of  administering  an  admonition,  "  like  him  as  well  as 
rido,  if  you  please;  but  do  not  pet  him  quite  as  freely  as  you 
pet  Fido." 

"  But  I  will,  if  I  choose  to !  Why  shouldn't  I  ?  "  inquired  the 
l^oung  lady,  erecting  her  haughty  little  head. 

"  Because  he  is  not  a  dog ! "  dryly  answered  her  uncle. 

'•  Oh !  but  he  likes  petting  just  as  much  as  Fido !  He  does 
indeed,  uncle;  I  assure  you!     Oh,  I  noticed  that." 

"  Nevertheless,  Miss  Claudia,  I  must  object  in  future  to 
your  making  a  pet  of  the  poor  boy,  whether  you  or  he  like  it 
or  not." 

"  But  I  will,  if  I  choose !  "  persisted  the  little  princess,  throw- 
ing back  her  head  and  shaking  all  her  ringlets. 

Mr.  Middleton  sighed,  shook  his  head,  and  turned  to  his  wife, 
whispering,  in  a  low  tone : 

"  What  are  we  to  do  with  this  self-willed  elf  ?  To  carry  out 
ker  father's  ideas,  and  let  her  nature  have  unrestrained  free- 
dom to  develop  itself,  will  be  the  ruin  of  her!  Unless  she  is 
controlled  and  guided  she  is  just  the  girl  to  grow  up  wild  and 
eccentric,  and  end  in  running  away  with  her  own  footman." 

These  words  were  not  intended  for  Miss  Claudia's  ears;  but 
notwithstanding,  or  rather  because  of,  that,  she  heard  every 
eyllable,  and  immediately  fired  up,  exclaiming: 

"  Who  are  you  talking  of  marrying  a  footman  ?  Me !  me !  me ! 
Do  you  think  that  I  would  ever  marry  anyone  beneath  me? 
No,  indeed!  I  will  live  to  be  an  old  maid,  before  I  will  marry 
anybody  but  a  lord !  that  I  am  determined  upon ! " 

"  You  will  never  reach  that  consummation  of  your  hopes,  my 
dear,  by  petting  a  peasant  boj",  even  though  you  do  look  upon 
him  as  little  better  than  a  dog,"  said  Mr.  Middleton,  as  he  drew 
up  before  the  gates  of  Brudenell, 

A  servant  was  in  attendance  to  open  them.  And  as  the  party 
were  now  at  home,  the  conversation  ceased  for  the  present. 

Claudia  ran  in  to  exhibit  her  purchases. 

Her  favorite,  Fido,  ran  to  meet  her,  barking  with  delight. 


196  ISHMAEL ;    OE,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

CHAPTER  XXTTT. 
ishmael's  progress. 

Athwart  his  face  when  blushes  past 

To  be  so  poor  and  weak, 
He  falls  into  the  dewy  grass, 

To  cool  his  fevered  cheek; 
And  hears  a  musi'j  strangely  made, 

That  yon  have  never  heard, 
A  sprite  in  every  rustling  blade, 

That  sings  like  any  bird! 

— Moncldon  MUnes. 

Meanwhile  on  that  fresh,  dewy,  moonlight  summer  evening, 
along  the  narrow  path  leading  through  the  wood  behind  the 
hut,  Ishmael  limped — the  happiest  little  fellow,  despite  his 
wounds  and  bruises,  that  ever  lived.  He  was  so  happy  that  he 
half  suspected  his  delight  to  be  all  unreal,  and  feared  to  wake 
up  presently  and  find  it  was  but  a  dream,  and  see  the  little 
black-eyed  girl,  the  ride  in  the  carriage,  and,  above  all,  the  new 
"Hlustrated  History  of  the  United  States"  vanish  into  the 
land  of  shades. 

In  this  dazed  frame  of  mind  he  reached  the  hut  and  opened 
the  door. 

The  room  was  lighted  only  by  the  blazing  logs  of  a  wood  fire, 
which  the  freshness  of  the  late  August  evening  on  the  hills 
made  not  quite  unwelcome. 

The  room  was  in  no  respect  changed  in  the  last  twelve  years. 
The  well-cared-for  though  humble  furniture  was  still  in  its 
old  position. 

Hannah,  as  of  old,  was  seated  at  her  loom,  driving  the 
shuttle  back  and  forth  with  a  deafening  clatter.  Hannah's 
face  was  a  little  more  sallow  and  wrinkled,  and  her  hair  a  little 
more  freely  streaked  with  gray  than  of  yore :  that  was  all  the 
change  visible  in  her  personal  appearance.  But  long  con- 
tinued solitude  had  rendered  her  as  taciturn  and  unobservant 
as  if  she  had  been  born  deaf  and  blind. 

She  had  not  seen  Reuben  Gray  since  that  Sunday  when 
Ishmael  was  christened  and  Reuben  insisted  on  bringing  the 
child  home,  and  when,  in  the  bitterness  of  her  woe  and  her 
shame,  she  had  slammed  the  door  in  his  face.  Gray  had  left 
the  neighborhood,  and  it  was  reported  that  he  had  been  pro- 
moted to  the  management  of  a  rich  farm  in  the  forest  of 
Prince  George's. 


isibiael's  progeess.  197 

"  There  is  your  supper  on  the  hearth,  child,"  she  said,  with* 
out  ceasing  her  work  or  turning  her  head  as  Ishmael  entered. 

Hannah  was  a  good  aunt;  but  she  was  not  his  mother;  if 
she  had  been,  she  would  at  least  have  turned  around  to  look 
at  the  boy,  and  then  she  would  have  seen  he  was  hurt,  and  would 
have  asked  an  explanation.     As  it  was  she  saw  nothing. 

And  Ishmael  was  very  glad  of  it.  He  did  not  wish  to  be 
pitied  or  praised;  he  wished  to  be  left  to  himself  and  his  own 
devices,  for  this  evening  at  least,  when  he  had  such  a  distin- 
guished guest  as  his  grand  new  book  to  entertain! 

Ishmael  took  up  his  bowl  of  mush  and  milk,  sat  down,  and 
with  a  large  spoon  shoveled  his  food  down  his  throat  with  more 
dispatch  than  delicacy — just  as  he  would  have  shoveled  coal 
into  a  cellar.  The  sharp  cries  of  a  hungry  stomach  must 
be  appeased,  he  knew ;  but  with  as  little  loss  of  time  as  possible, 
particularly  when  there  was  a  hungry  brain  waiting  to  set  to 
work  upon  a  rich  feast  already  prepared  for  it ! 

So  in  three  minutes  he  put  away  his  bowl  and  spoon,  drew 
his  three-legged  stool  to  the  corner  of  the  fireplace,  where  he 
could  see  to  read,  seated  himself,  opened  his  packet,  and  dis- 
played his  treasure.  It  was  a  large,  thick,  octavo  volume,  bound 
in  stout  leather,  and  filled  with  portraits  and  pictured  battle 
scenes.    And  on  the  fly-leaf  was  written : 

"  Presented  to  Ishmael  Worth,  as  a  reward  of  merit,  by  his  friend  Jamea 
Middleton." 

Ishmael  read  that  with  a  new  accession  of  pleasure.  Then 
he  turned  the  leaves  to  peep  at  the  hidden  jewels  in  this  in- 
tellectual casket.  Then  he  closed  the  book  and  laid  it  on  his 
knees  and  shut  his  eyes  and  held  his  breath  for  joy. 

He  had  been  enamored  of  this  beauty  for  months  and  months. 
He  had  fallen  in  love  with  it  at  first  sight,  when  he  had  seen 
its  pages  open,  with  a  portrait  of  George  Washington  on  the 
right  and  a  picture  of  the  Battle  of  Yorktown  on  the  left, 
all  displayed  in  the  show  window  of  Hamlin's  book  shop.  He 
had  loved  it  and  longed  for  it  with  a  passionate  ardor  ever  since. 
He  had  spent  all  his  half  holidays  in  going  to  Baymouth  and 
standing  before  Hamlin's  window  and  staring  at  the  book,  and 
asking  the  price  of  it,  and  wondering  if  he  should  ever  be 
able  to  save  money  enough  to  buy  it.  ISTow,  to  be  in  love  with 
an  unattainable  woman  is  bad  enough,  the  dear  knows!  But 
to  be  in  love  with  an  unattainable  book Oh,  my  gracious! 


198  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

Lover-like,  lie  had  thouglit  of  this  book  all  day,  and  dreamt  of 
it  all  night;  but  never  hoped  to  possess  it! 

And  now  he  really  owned  it!  He  had  won  it  as  a  reward 
for  courage,  truth,  and  honesty!  It  was  lying  there  on  his 
knees.  It  was  all  his  own !  His  intense  satisfaction  can  only 
be  compared  to  that  of  a  youthful  bridegroom  who  has  got  his 
beloved  all  to  himself  at  last !  It  might  have  been  said  of  the 
one,  as  it  is  often  said  of  the  other,  "  It  was  the  happiest  day 
of  his  life !  " 

Oh,  doubtless  in  after  years  the  future  statesman  enjoyed 
many  a  hard-won  victory.  Sweet  is  the  breath  of  fame !  Sweet 
the  praise  of  nations !  But  I  question  whether,  in  all  the  vicissi- 
tudes, successes,  failures,  trials,  and  triumphs  of  his  future  life, 
Ishmael  Worth  ever  tasted  such  keen  joy  as  he  did  this  night 
in  the  possession  of  this  book. 

He  enjoyed  it  more  than  wealthy  men  enjoy  their  great  li- 
braries. To  him,  this  was  the  book  of  books,  because  it  was 
the  history  of  his  own  country. 

There  were  thousands  and  thousands  of  young  men,  sons 
of  gentlemen,  in  schools  and  colleges,  reading  this  glorioua 
history  of  the  young  republic  as  a  task,  with  indifference  or  dis- 
gust, while  this  poor  boy,  in  the  hill-top  hut,  pored  over  its 
pages  with  all  the  enthusiasm  of  reverence  and  love!  And 
why — what  caused  this  difference?  Because  they  were  of  the 
commonplace,  while  he  was  one  in  a  million.  This  was  the 
history  of  the  rise  and  progress  of  the  United  States ;  Ishmael 
Worth  was  an  ardent  lover  and  worshiper  of  his  country,  aa 
well  as  of  all  that  was  great  and  good !  He  had  the  brain  to 
comprehend  and  the  heart  to  reverence  the  divine  idea  em- 
bodied in  the  Fedei'al  Union.  He  possessed  these,  not  by  in- 
heritance, not  by  education,  but  by  the  direct  inspiration  of 
Heaven,  who,  passing  over  the  wealthy  and  the  prosperous,  or- 
dained this  poor  outcast  boy,  this  despised,  illegitimate  son  of 
a  country  weaver,  to  become  a  great  power  among  the  people  I 
a  great  pillar  of  the  State. 

ISTo'  one  could  guess  this  now.  ISTot  even  the  boy  himself. 
He  did  not  know  that  he  was  any  richer  in  heart  or  brain  than 
other  boys  of  his  age.  I^o,  most  probably,  by  analogy,  he 
thought  himself  in  this  respect  as  well  as  in  all  others,  poorer 
than  his  neighbors.  He  covered  his  book  carefully,  and  studied 
it  perseveringly ;  studied  it  not  only  while  it  was  a  novelty, 
but  after  he  had  grown  familiar  with  its  incidents. 


ishmael's  peogeess.  199 

I  have  dwelt  so  long  upon  this  subject  because  the  posses- 
sion of  this  book  at  this  time  had  a  signal  effect  in  forming 
Ishmael  Worth's  character  and  directing  the  current  of  the 
boy's  whole  future  life.  It  was  one  of  the  first  media  of  his 
inspiration.  Its  heroes,  its  warriors,  and  its  statesmen  were 
his  idols,  his  models,  and  his  exemplars.  By  studying  them  he 
became  himself  high-toned,  chivalrous,  and  devoted.  Through 
the  whole  autumn  he  worked  hard  all  day,  upheld  with  the  pros- 
pect of  returning  home  at  night  to — his  poor  hut  and  his  silent 
aunt? — oh,  no,  but  to  the  grand  stage  upon  which  the  Eevo- 
lutionary  struggle  was  exhibited  and  to  the  company  of  its 
heroes — Washington,  Putnam,  Marion,  Jefferson,  Hancock,  and 
Henry!  He  saw  no  more  for  some  time  of  his  friends  at  Bru- 
denell  Hall.  He  knew  that  Mr.  Middleton  had  a  first-class 
school  at  his  house,  and  he  envied  the  privileged  young  gentle- 
men who  had  the  happiness  to  attend  it:  little  knowing  how 
unenviable  a  privilege  the  said  young  gentlemen  considered 
that  attendance  and  how  a  small  portion  of  happiness  they 
derived  from  it. 

The  winter  set  in  early  and  severely.  Hannah  took  a  violent 
cold  and  was  confined  to  her  bed  with  inflammatory  rheuma- 
tism. For  many  weeks  she  was  unable  to  do  a  stroke  of  work. 
During  this  time  of  trial  Ishmael  worked  for  both — rising  very 
early  in  the  morning  to  get  the  frugal  breakfast  and  set  the 
house  in  order  before  going  out  to  his  daily  occupation  of 
"  jobbing  "  with  the  professor — and  coming  home  late  at  night 
to  get  the  supper  and  to  split  the  wood  and  to  bring  the  water 
for  the  next  day's  supply.  Thus,  as  long  as  his  work  lasted,  he 
was  the  provider  as  well  as  the  nurse  of  his  poor  aunt. 

But  at  last  there  came  one  of  the  heaviest  falls  of  snow  ever 
known  in  that  region.  It  lay  upon  the  ground  for  many  weeks, 
quite  blocking  up  the  roads,  interrupting  travel,  and  of  course 
putting  a  stop  to  the  professor's  jobbing  and  to  Ishmael's  in- 
come. Provisions  were  soon  exhausted,  and  there  was  no  way  of 
getting  more.  Hannah  and  Ishmael  suffered  hunger.  Ishmael 
bore  this  with  great  fortitude.  Hannah  also  bore  it  patiently 
as  long  as  the  tea  lasted.  But  when  that  woman's  consolation 
failed  she  broke  down  and  complained  bitterly. 

The  Baymouth  turnpike  was  about  the  only  passable  road 
in  the  neighborhood.  By  it  Ishmael  walked  on  to  the  village, 
one  bitter  cold  morning,  to  try  to  get  credit  for  a  quarter  of  a 
pound  of  tea. 


200  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IF   THE    DEPTHS. 

J3ut  Nutt  would  see  liim  hanged  first. 

Disappointed  and  sorrowful,  Ishmael  turned  his  steps  from 
the  town.  lie  had  come  about  a  mile  on  his  homeward  road, 
when  something  glowing  like  a  coal  of  fir©  on  the  glistening 
whiteness  of  the  snow  caught  his  eye. 

It  was  a  red  morocco  pocketbook  lying  in  the  middle  of  the 
road.  There  was  not  a  human  creature  except  Ishmael  himself 
on  the  road  or  anywhere  in  sight.  Neither  had  he  passed  any- 
one on  his  way  from  the  village.  Therefore  it  was  quite  in 
vain  that  he  looked  up  and  down  and  all  around  for  the  owner  of 
the  pocketbook  as  he  raised  it  from  the  ground.  No  possible 
claimant  was  to  be  seen.  He  opened  it  and  examined  its  con- 
tents. It  contained  a  little  gold  and  silver,  not  quite  ten  dollars 
in  all ;  but  a  fortune  for  Ishmael,  in  his  present  needy  condition. 
There  was  no  name  on  the  pocketbook  and  not  a  scrap  of  paper 
in  it  by  which  the  owner  might  be  discovered.  There  was 
nothing  in  it  but  the  untraceable  silver  and  gold.  It  seemed 
to  have  dropped  from  heaven  for  Ishmael's  own  benefit!  This 
was  his  thought  as  he  turned  with  the  impulse  to  fly  directly 
back  to  the  village  and  invest  a  portion  of  the  money  in  neces- 
saries for  Hannah. 

What  was  it  that  suddenly  arrested  his  steps?  The  recollec- 
tion that  the  money  was  not  his  own !  that  to  use  it  even  for  the 
best  purpose  in  the  world  would  be  an  act  of  dishonesty. 

He  paused  and  reflected.  The  devil  took  that  opportunity  to 
tempt  him — whispering: 

"You  found  the  pocketbook  and  you  cannot  flnd  the  owner; 
therefore  it  is  your  own,  you  know." 

"  You  know  it  isn't,"  murmured  Ishmael's  conscience. 

"Well,  even  so,  it  is  no  harm  to  borrow  a  dollar  or  two  to 
get  your  poor  sick  aunt  a  little  tea  and  sugar.  You  could  pay 
it  back  again  before  the  pocketbook  is  claimed,  even  if  it  is 
ever  claimed,"  mildly  insinuated  the  devil. 

"  It  would  be  borrowing  without  leave,"  replied  conscience. 

"  But  for  your  poor,  sick,  suffering  aunt !  think  of  her,  and 
make  her  happy  this  evening  with  a  consoling  cup  of  tea! 
Take  only  half  a  dollar  for  that  good  purpose.  Nobody  could 
blame  you  for  that,"  whimpered  the  devil,  who  was  losing 
ground. 

"  I  would  like  to  make  dear  Aunt  Hannah  happy  to-night. 
But  I  am  sure  George  Washington  would  not  approve  of  my 
taking  what  don't  belong  to  me  for  that  or  any  other  purpose. 


ishmael's  pkogkess.  201 

And  neither  would  Patrick  Henry,  nor  John  Hancock,  And  so 
I  won't  do  it,"  said  Ishmael,  resolutely  putting  the  pocketbook 
in  his  vest  pocket  and  buttoning  his  coat  tight  over  it,  and 
starting  at  a  brisk  pace  homeward. 

You  see  his  heroes  had  come  to  his  aid  and  saved  him  in  the 
first  temptation  of  his  life. 

Ah,  you  may  be  sure  that  in  after  days  the  rising  iDolitician 
met  and  resisted  many  a  temptation  to  sell  his  vote,  his  party, 
or  his  soul  for  a  "  consideration " ;  but  none  more  serious  to 
the  man  than  this  one  was  to  the  boy. 

When  Ishmael  had  trudged  another  mile  of  his  homeward 
road,  it  suddenly  occurred  to  him  that  he  might  possibly  meet 
or  overtake  the  owner  of  the  pocketbook,  who  would  know  his 
property  in  a  moment  if  he  should  see  it.  And  with  this 
thought  he  took  it  from  his  pocket  and  carried  it  conspicuously 
in  his  hand  until  he  reached  home,  without  having  met  a  human 
being. 

It  was  about  twelve  meridian  when  he  lifted  the  latch  and 
entered.  Hannah  was  in  bed;  but  she  turned  her  hungry  eyes 
anxiously  on  him — as  she  eagerly  inquired: 

"  Did  you  bring  the  tea,  Ishmael  ?  " 

"No,  Aunt  Hannah;  Mr.  ]S3"utt  wouldn't  trust  me,"  replied 
the  boy  sadly,  sinking  dcwii  in  a  chair;  for  he  was  very  weak 
from  insufficient  food,  and  the  long  walk  had  exhausted  him. 

Hannah  began  to  complain  piteously.  Do  not  blame  her, 
reader.  You  would  fret,  too,  if  you  were  sick  in  bed,  and 
longing  for  a  cup  of  tea,  without  having  the  means  of  pro- 
curing it. 

To  divert  her  thoughts  Ishmael  went  and  showed  the  pocket- 
book,  and  told  her  the  history  of  his  finding  it. 

Hannah  seized  it  with  the  greedy  grasp  with  which  the  starv- 
ing catch  at  money.  She  opened  it,  and  counted  the  gold  and 
silver. 

"  Where  did  you  say  you  found  it,  Ishmael  ? " 

"  I  told  you  a  mile  out  of  the  village." 

"  Only  that  little  way !  Why  didn't  you  go  back  and  buy  my 
tea  ?  "  she  inquired,  with  an  injured  look. 

"  Oh,  aunt !  the  money  wasn't  mine,  you  know !  "  said  Ishmael. 

"Well,  I  don't  say  it  was.  But  you  might  have  borrowed  at 
dollar  from  it,  and  the  owner  would  have  never  minded,  for 
I  dare  say  he'd  be  willing  to  give  two  dollars  as  a  reward  for 
finding  the  pocketbook.    You  miaht  have  bought  my  tea  if  you 


202  ISHMAEL ;    OR,  IlSr   THE   DEPTHS. 

had  cared  for  me !    But  nobody  cares  for  me  now !    No  one  eve* 
did  but  Reuben — poor  fellow !  " 

"  Indeed,  Aunt  Hannah,  I  do  care  for  you  a  great  deal !  I 
love  you  dearly;  and  I  did  want  to  take  some  of  the  money  and 
buy  your  tea." 

"  Why  didn't  you  do  it,  then?  " 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Hannah,  the  Lord  has  commanded,  *  Thou  shalt 
not  steal.' " 

"  It  wouldn't  have  been  stealing ;  it  would  have  been  bor- 
rovsdng." 

"  But  I  know  Patrick  Heniy  and  John  Hancock  wouldn't 
have  borrowed  what  didn't  belong  to  them ! " 

"  Plague  take  Patrick  Hancock  and  John  Henry,  I  say !  1 
believe  they  are  turning  your  head!  What  have  them  dead 
and  buried  old  people  to  do  with  folks  that  are  alive  and 
starving  ? " 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Hannah !  scold  me  as  much  as  you  please,  but 
don't  speak  so  of  the  great  men ! "  said  Ishmael,  to  whom  all 
this  was  sheer  blasphemy  and  nothing  less. 

"  Great  fiddlesticks'  ends !  No  tea  yesterday,  and  no  tea  for 
breakfast  this  morning,  and  no  tea  for  supper  to-night!  And 
I  laying  helpless  with  the  rheumatism,  and  feeling  as  faint 
as  if  I  should  sink  and  die;  and  my  head  aching  ready  to 
burst !  And  I  would  give  anything  in  the  world  for  a  cup  of 
tea,  because  I  know  it  would  do  me  so  much  good,  and  I  can't 
get  it!  And  you  have  money  in  your  pocket  and  won't  buy 
it  for  me !  No,  not  if  I  die  for  the  want  of  it !  You,  that  I 
have  been  a  mother  to!  That's  the  way  you  pay  me,  is  it,  for 
all  my  care  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Hannah,  dear,  I  do  love  you,  and  I  would  do  any- 
thing in  the  world  for  you;  but,  indeed,  I  am  sure  Patrick 
Henry " 

"  Hang  Patrick  Henry !  If  you  mention  his  name  to  me 
again  I'll  box  your  ears ! " 

Ishmael  dropped  his  eyes  to  the  ground  and  sighed  deeply. 

"  After  all  I  have  done  for  you,  ever  since  you  were  left  a 
helpless  infant  on  my  hands,  for  you  to  let  me  lie  here  and 
die,  yes,  actually  die,  for  the  want  of  a  cup  of  tea,  before 
you  will  spend  one  quarter  of  a  dollar  to  get  it  for  me!  Oh  I 
Oh!  Oh!  Oo-oo-oo!" 

And  Hannah  put  her  hands  to  her  face,  and  cried  like  a 
baby. 


ishmael's  progkess.  203 

You  see  Hannah  was  honest;  but  she  was  not  heroic;  her 
nerves  were  very  weali,  and  her  spirits  very  low.  Inflammatory 
rheumatism  is  often  more  or  less  complicated  with  heart  dis- 
ease. And  the  latter  is  a  great  demoralizer  of  mind  as  well  as 
"body.  And  that  was  Hannah's  case.  We  must  make  every 
excuse  for  the  weakness  of  the  poor,  over-tasked,  all  enduring, 
long-suffering  woman,  broken  down  at  last. 

But  not  a  thought  of  blaming  her  entered  Ishmael's  mind. 
Full  of  love,  he  bent  over  her,  saying : 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Hannah,  don't,  don't  cry !  You  shall  have  your 
tea  this  very  evening;  indeed  you  shall!"  And  he  stooped 
and  kissed  her  tenderly. 

Then  he  put  on  his  cap  and  went  and  took  his  only  treasure, 
his  beloved  "History,"  from  its  place  of  honor  on  the  top  of 
the  bureau;  and  cold,  hungry,  and  tired  as  he  was,  he  set  ofi 
again  to  walk  the  four  long  miles  to  the  village,  to  try  to  sell 
his  book  for  half  price  to  the  trader. 

Reader !  I  am  not  fooling  you  with  a  fictitious  character  here. 
Do  you  not  love  this  boy?  And  will  you  not  forgive  me  if  I 
have  already  lingered  too  long  over  the  trials  and  triumphs 
of  his  friendless  but  heroic  boyhood!  He  who  in  his  feeble 
childhood  resists  small  temptations,  and  makes  small  sacrifices, 
is  very  apt  in  his  strong  manhood  to  conquer  great  difiiculties 
and  achieve  great  successes. 

Ishmael,  with  his  book  under  his  arm,  went  as  fast  as  his 
exhausted  frame  would  permit  him  on  the  road  towards  Bay- 
mouth.  But  as  he  was  obliged  to  walk  slowly  and  pause  to  rest 
frequently,  he  made  but  little  progress,  so  that  it  was  thi-ee 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon  before  he  reached  Hamlin's  book  shop. 

There  was  a  customer  present,  and  Ishmael  had  to  wait  until 
the  man  was  served  and  had  departed,  before  he  could  mention 
his  own  humble  errand.  This  short  interview  Ishmael  spent  in 
taking  the  brown  paper  cover  off  his  book,  and  looking  fondly 
at  the  cherished  volume.  It  was  like  taking  a  last  leave  of  it. 
Do  not  blame  this  as  a  weakness.  He  was  so  poor,  so  very 
poor;  this  book  was  his  only  treasure  and  his  only  joy  in  life. 
The  tears  arose  to  his  eyes,  but  he  kept  them  from  falling. 

When  the  customer  was  gone,  and  the  boolcseller  was  at  leis- 
ure, Ishmael  approached  and  laid  the  volume  on  the  counter, 
saying : 

"Have  you  another  copy  of  this  work  in  the  shop,  Mr 
Hamlin?" 


204:  ISIBIAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

"No;  I  wish  I  had,  half-a-dozen;  for  I  could  sell  them  all; 
but  I  intend  to  order  some  from  Baltimore  to-day." 

"Then  maybe  you  would  buy  this  one  back  from  me  at  half 
price?  I  have  taken  such  care  of  it,  that  it  is  as  good  as  new, 
you  see.    Look  at  it  for  yourself." 

"  Yes,  I  see  it  looks  perfectly  fresh ;  but  here  is  some  writing 
on  the  fly  leaf;  that  would  have  to  be  torn  out,  you  know;  so 
that  the  book  could  never  be  sold  as  a  new  one  again;  I  should 
have  to  sell  it  as  a  second  hand  one,  at  half  price;  that  would 
be  a  dollar  and  a  half,  so  that  you  see  I  would  only  give  you 
a  dollar  for  it." 

"  Sir  ? "  questioned  Ishmael,  in  sad  amazement. 

"  Yes ;  because  you  know,  I  must  have  my  own  little  profit 
on  it." 

"  Oh,  I  see ;  yes,  to  be  sure,"  assented  Isamael,  with  a  sigh. 

But  to  part  with  his  treasure  and  get  no  more  than  that! 
It  was  like  Esau  selling  his  birthright  for  a  mess  of  pottage. 

However,  the  poor  cannot  argue  with  the  prosperous.  The 
bargain  was  soon  struck.  The  book  was  sold  and  the  boy  re- 
ceived his  dollar.  And  then  the  dealer,  feeling  a  twinge  of  con- 
science, gave  him  a  dime  in  addition. 

"  Thank  you,  sir ;  I  will  take  this  out  in  paper  and  wafers,  if 
you  please.     I  want  some  particularly,"  said  Ishmael. 

Having  received  a  half  dozen  sheets  of  paper  and  a  small 
box  of  wafers,  the  lad  asked  the  loan  of  pen  and  ink;  and  then, 
standing  at  the  counter,  he  wrote  a  dozen  circulars  as  follows: 

FOUND,  A  POCKET-BOOK. 

On  the  Baymouth  Turnpike  Road,  on  Friday  morning,  I  picked  np  a 
pocketbook,  which  the  owner  can  have  by  coming  to  me  at  the  Hill  Hut  and 
proving  his  property.  Ishmael  Wokth. 

Having  finished  these,  he  thanked  the  bookseller  and  left 
the  shop,  saying  to  himself: 

"  I  won't  keep  that  about  me  much  longer  to  be  a  constant 
temptation  and  cross." 

He  first  went  and  bought  a  quarter  of  a  pound  of  tea,  a 
pound  of  sugar,  and  a  bag  of  meal  from  ISTutt's  general  shop 
for  Hannah;  and  leaving  them  there  until  he  should  have  got 
through  his  work,  he  went  around  the  village  and  waf  ered  up  his 
twelve  posters  at  various  conspicuous  points  on  fences,  walls, 
pumps,  trees,  etc. 

Then  he  called  for  his  provisions,  and  set  out  on  his  long 
walk  home. 


CLAUDIA   TO    THE   EESCUE.  305 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

CLAUDIA  TO  THE  RESCUE. 

Iiet  me  not  now  ungenerously  condemn 

My  few  good  deeds  on  impulse — half  unwise 
And  scarce  approved  by  reason's  colder  eyes; 

I  will  not  blame,  nor  weakly  blush  for  tliem; 
The  feelings  and  the  actions  then  stood  rightj 

And  if  regret,  for  half  a  moment  sighs 
That  worldly  wisdom  in  its  keener  sight 

Had  ordered  matters  uo  and  so,  my  heart, 

Still,  in  its  fervor  loves  a  warmer  part 

Thau  Prudence  wots  of;  while  my  faithful  minAj 
Heart'o  consort,  also  praist-s  her  for  thisj 

And  on  our  conscience  little  load  I  find 
If  sometimes  we  have  helped  another's  bliss, 

At  some  small  cost  of  selfish  loss  behind. 

—M.  F.  Tupper, 

As  Islunael  left  the  village  by  the  eastern  arm.  of  the  ro^jti  a 
gay  sleighing  party  dashed  into  it  from  the  westewtt  oue. 
Horses  prancing,  bells  ringing,  veils  flying,  and  voices  chat- 
tering, they  drew  up  before  Hamlin's  shop.  The  party  ^jinsisted 
of  Mr.  Middleton,  his  wife,  and  his  niece. 

Mr.  Middleton  gave  the  reins  to  his  wife  and  got  out  and  went 
into  the  shop  to  make  a  few  purchases. 

When  his  parcels  had  been  made  up  and  paid  foi",  tie  turned 
to  leave  the  shop;  but  then,  as  if  suddenly  recollecting  some- 
thing, he  looked  back  and  inquired: 

"  By  the  way,  Hamlin,  have  those  Histories  e-jme  yet  ? " 

"No,  sir;  but  I  shall  write  for  them  again  by  this  evening's 
mail;  I  cannot  think  what  has  delayed  them.  However,  sir, 
there  is  one  copy  that  I  can  let  you  have,  if  tha*  will  be  of  any 
service." 

"  Certainly,  certainly ;  it  is  better  than  nothing ;  let  me  look 
at  it,"  said  Mr.  Middleton,  coming  back  from  the  counter  and 
taking  the  book  from  Hamlin's  hands. 

In  turning  over  the  leaves  he  came  to  the  presentation  page, 
on  which  he  recognized  his  own  handwriting  in  the  lines : 

"Presented  to  Ishmael  Worth,  as  a  reward  of  merit,  by  his  friend  Jamea 
Middleton." 

"  Why,  this  is  the  very  copy  I  gave  to  that  poor  little  fellow 
on  the  hill,  last  August !  How  did  you  come  by  it  again  ? " 
asked  Mr.  Middleton,  in  astonishment. 

"  He  brought  it  here  to  sell  about  an  hour  ago,  sir,  and  as  it 


206  ishk/Iel;  or,  in  the  depths. 

was  a  perfectly  fresh  copy,  and  I  knew  you  were  in  a  hurry  fot 
some  of  them,  I  bought  it  of  him,"  replied  the  dealer. 

"  But  why  should  the  lad  have  sold  his  book  ?  " 

"  Why,  law,  sir,  you  cannot  expect  boys  of  his  class  to  appre- 
ciate books.  T  dare  say  he  wanted  his  money  to  spend  in  tops 
or  marbles,  or  some  such  traps !  "  replied  the  dealer. 

"  Very  like,  very  like !  though  I  am  sorry  to  think  so  of  that 
little  fellow.  I  had  hoped  better  things  of  him,"  assented  Mr. 
Middleton. 

"  Law,  sir,  boys  will  be  boys." 

"  Certainly;  well,  put  the  book  in  paper  for  me,  and  say  what* 
you  are  going  to  ask  for  it." 

"  Well,  sir,  it  is  as  good  as  new,  and  the  work  is  much  called 
for  just  about  now  in  this  neighborhood.  So  I  s'pose  I  shall 
have  to  ask  you  about  three  dollars." 

"  That  is  the  full  price.  Did  you  give  the  boy  that  ? "  in- 
quired the  gentleman. 

"  Well,  no,  sir ;  but  you  know  I  must  have  my  own  little 
profit,"  replied  the  dealer,  reddening. 

"  Certainly,"  assented  Mr.  Middleton,  taking  out  his  purse — 
a  delicate,  effeminate-looking  article,  that  seemed  to  have 
been  borrowed  from  his  wife,  paying  Hamlin  and  carrying  off 
the  book. 

As  he  got  into  the  sleigh  and  took  the  reins  with  one  hand, 
hugging  up  his  parcels  and  his  purse  loosely  to  his  breast  with 
the  other,  Mrs.  Middleton  said: 

"  Now,  James,  don't  go  and  plant  my  purse  on  the  road,  as 
you  did  your  pocketbook  this  morning !  " 

"  My  dear,  pray  don't  harp  on  that  loss  forever !  It  was  not 
ruinous !     There  was  only  nine  dollars  in  it." 

"  And  if  there  had  been  nine  hundred,  it  would  have  been  the 
same  thing !  "  said  the  lady. 

Her  husband  laughed,  put  away  his  purse,  stowed  away  his 
parcels,  and  then,  having  both  hands  at  liberty,  took  the  reins 
and  set  off  for  home. 

As  he  dashed  along  the  street  a  poster  caught  his  attention. 
He  drew  up,  threw  the  reins  to  Mrs.  Middleton,  jumped  out, 
pulled  down  the  poster,  and  returned  to  his  seat  in  the  sleigh. 

"  Here  we  are,  my  dear,  all  right ;  the  pocketbook  is  found," 
he  smiled,  as  he  again  took  possession  of  the  reins. 

"  Found  ?  "  she  echoed. 

"Yes,  by  th&t  boy,  Worth,  you  know,  who  behaved  so  weH 
in  that  affair  with  the  Burghes." 


CLAUDIA   TO   TUE    EESOUE.  207 

"  Oh,  yes !  and  he  found  the  pocketbook  ? " 

"  Yes,  anxl  advertised  it  in  this  way,  poor  little  fellow ! " 

And  Mr.  Middleton  drove  slowly  while  he  read  the  circulai 
to  his  wife. 

"  Well,  we  can  call  by  the  hut  as  we  go  home,  and  you  can  get 
out  and  get  it,  and  you  will  not  forget  to  reward  the  poor  boy 
for  his  honesty.  He  might  have  kt  :"it  it,  you  know;  for  there 
was  nothing  in  it  that  could  be  traced." 

"  Very  well ;  I  will  do  as  you  recommend ;  but  I  have  a  quar- 
rel with  the  young  fellow,  for  all  that,"  said  Mr.  Middleton. 

"  Upon  what  ground  ?  "  inquired  his  wife. 

"  Why,  upon  the  ground  of  his  just  having  sold  the  book  I 
gave  him  last  August  as  a  reward  of  merit." 

"  What  did  he  do  that  for  ? " 

*'  To  get  money  to  buy  tops  and  marbles." 

"  It  is  false !  "  burst  out  Claudia,  speaking  for  the  first  time. 

"  Claudia !  Claudia !  Claudia !  How  dare  you  charge  your 
xmcle  with   falsehood?"   exclaimed  Mrs.   Middleton,   horrified. 

"I  don't  accuse  him,  aunt.  He  don't  know  anything  about 
it !  Somebody  has  told  him  falsehoods  about  poor  Islimael,  and 
he  believes  it  just  as  he  did  before,"  exclaimed  the  little  lady, 
^vith  fiashing  eyes. 

"  Well,  then,  what  did  he  sell  it  for,  Claudia  ? "  inquired  her 
tmcle,  smiling. 

"  I  don't  believe  he  sold  it  at  all !  "  said  Miss  Claudiai. 

Her  uncle  quietly  untied  the  packet,  and  placed  the  book  be- 
fore her,  open  at  the  fly-leaf,  upon  which  the  names  of  the 
donor  and  the  receiver  were  written. 

"  Well,  then,  I  believe  he  must  have  sold  it  to  get  something 
to  eat,"  said  Ishmael's  obstinate  little  advocate;  "for  I  heard 
Mr.  Rutherford  say  that  there  was  a  great  deal  of  suffering 
among  the  frozen-out  working  classes  this  winter." 

"  It  may  be  as  you  say,  my  dear.    I  do  not  know." 

"  Well,  uncle,  you  ought  to  know,  then !  It  is  the  duty  of  the 
prosperous  to  find  out  the  condition  of  the  poor !  When  I  come 
into  my  fortune " 

"Yes,  I  know;  we  have  heard  all  that  before;  the  millen- 
nium will  be  brought  about,  of  course.  But,  if  I  am  not  mis- 
taken, there  is  your  little  protege  on  the  road  before  us ! "  said 
Mr.  Middleton,  slacking  his  horse's  speed,  as  he  caught  sight 
of  Ishmael. 

"Yes,  it  is  he!     And  look  at  him!  does  he  look  like  a  boy 


208  ISEGVIAEL ;    OR,  m    THE   DEPTHS. 

who  is  thinking  of  playing  marbles  and  spinning  tops  ? "  in- 
quired Miss  Claudia. 

Indeed,  no!  no  one  who  saw  the  child  could  have  connected 
childish  sports  with  him.  He  was  creeping  wearily  along, 
bent  under  the  burden  of  the  bag  of  meal  he  carried  on  his  back, 
and  looking  from  behind  more  like  a  little  old  man  than  a  boy. 

Mr.  Middleton  drove  slowl/  as  he  approached  him. 

Ishmael  drew  aside  to  let  the  sleigh  pass. 

But  Mr.  Middleton  drew  up  to  examine  the  boy  more  at  his 
leisure. 

The  stooping  gait,  the  pale,  broad  forehead,  the  hollow  eyes, 
the  wasted  cheeks  and  haggard  countenance,  so  sad  to  see  in 
so  young  a  lad,  spoke  more  eloquently  than  words  could  express 
the  famine,  the  cold,  the  weariness,  and  illness  he  suffered. 

"  Oh,  uncle,  if  yoi;  haven't  got  a  stone  in  your  bosom  instead 
of  a  heart,  you  rill  call  the  poor  fellow  here  and  give  him  a 
seat  with  us !  He  is  hardly  able  to  stand !  And  it  is  so  bitter 
cold ! "  said  Miss  Claudia,  drawing  her  own  warm,  sable  cloak 
around  her. 

"  But — he  is  such  an  object !  His  clothes  are  all  over 
patches,"  said  Mr.  Middleton,  who  liked  sometimes  to  try  the 
spirit  of  his  niece. 

"  But,  uncle,  he  is  so  clean !  just  as  clean  as  you  are,  or  even 
as  I  am,"  said  Miss  Claudia, 

"  And  he  has  got  a  great  bag  on  his  back !  " 

"  Well,  uncle,  that  makes  it  so  much  harder  for  him  to  walk 
this  long,  long  road,  and  is  so  much  the  more  reason  for  you 
to  take  him  in.  You  can  put  the  bag  down  under  your  feet. 
And  now  if  you  don't  call  him  here  in  one  minute,  I  will — so 
there  now !  Islunael !  Ishmael,  I  say !  Here,  sir !  here !  "  cried 
the  little  lady,  standing  up  in  the  sleigh, 

"  Ishmael !  come  here,  my  boy,"  called  Mr,  Middleton. 

Our  boy  came  as  fast  as  his  weakness  and  his  burden  would 
permit  him. 

"  Get  in  here,  my  boy,  and  take  this  seat  beside  me.  We  are 
going  the  same  way  that  you  are  walking,  and  we  can  give  you 
a  ride  without  inconveniencing  ourselves.  And  besides  I  want 
to  talk  with  you,"  said  Mr,  Middleton,  as  Ishmael  came  up  to 
the  side  of  the  sleigh  and  took  off  his  hat  to  the  party.  He 
bowed  and  took  the  seat  indicated,  and  Mr.  Middleton  started 
his  horses,  driving  slowly  as  he  talked. 

*'  Ishmael,  did  you  ever  have  a  sleigh-ride  before  ? "  inquired 


CLAUDIA  TO   THE   EESCUE.  209 

Claudia,  bending  forward  and  laying  her  little  gloved  liand 
upon  his  shoulder,  as  he  sat  immediately  before  her. 

"  JSTo,  miss." 

"Oh,  then,  how  you'll  enjoy  it!  It  is  so  grand!  But  only 
wait  until  uncle  is  done  talking  and  we  are  going  fast!  It  is 
like  flying !  You'll  see !  But  what  do  you  think,  Ishmael  1  Do 
you  think  somebody — I  know  it  was  that  old  Hamlin — didn't 
go  and  tell  uncle  that  you  went  and " 

"  Claudia,  Claudia,  hold  your  little  tongue,  my  dear,  for  just 
five  minutes,  if  you  possibly  can,  while  I  speak  to  this  boy 
myself !  "  said  Mr.  Middleton. 

"  Ah,  you  see  uncle  don't  want  to  hear  of  his  mistakes.  He 
is  not  vain  of  them." 

"  Will  you  hold  your  tongue  just  for  three  minutes,  Claudia  V* 

"  Yes,  sir,  to  oblige  you ;  but  I  know  I  shall  get  a  sore  throat 
by  keeping  my  mouth  open  so  long." 

And  with  that,  I  regret  to  say.  Miss  Merlin  put  out  her  little 
tongue  and  literally  "held"  it  between  her  thumb  and  finger 
as  she  sank  back  i: .  her  seat. 

"  Ishmael,"  said  Mr.  Middleton,  "  I  have  seen  your  poster 
about  the  pocketbook.  It  is  mine;  I  dropped  it  this  forenoon, 
when  we  first  came  out." 

"  OL,  sir,  I'm.  so  glad  I  have  found  the  owner,  and  that  it  is 
you !  "  exclaimed  Ishmael,  putting  his  hand  in  his  pocket  to 
deliver  the  lost  article. 

"  Stop,  stop,  stop,  my  impetuous  little  friend !  Don't  you 
know  I  must  pro, g  my  property  before  I  take  possession  of  it ? 
That  is  to  say,  I  must  describe  it  before  I  see  it,  so  as  to  con- 
vince you  that  it  is  really  mine?  " 

"  Oh,  sir,  but  that  was  only  put  in  my  poster  to  prevent  im- 
posters  from  claiming  it,"  said  Ishmael  blushing. 

"Nevertheless,  it  is  better  to  do  business  in  a  business-like 
way,"  persisted  Mr.  Middleton,  putting  his  hand  upon  that  of 
the  boy  to  prevent  him  from  drawing  forth  the  pocketbook. 
"Imprimis — a  crimson  pocketbook,  with  yellow  silk  lining; 
items — in  one  compartment  three  quarter  eagles  in  gold;  in 
another  two  dollars  in  silver.    Now  *    tha'^  right? " 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir;  but  it  wasn't  necessary;  70U  know  that! "  said 
Ishmael,  putting  the  pocketbook  in  the  hand  of  its  owner. 

Mr.  Middleton  opened  it,  took  out  a  piece  of  gold  and  would 
have  silently  forced  it  in  the  hand  of  the  poor  boy,  but  Ishmad 
Respectfully  but  firmly  put  back  the  offering. 


210  ishmael;  oe,  in  the  depths. 

"  Take  it,  my  boy;  it  is  usual  to  do  so,  you  know,"  said  Mr. 
Middleton,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  JSTot  for  me,  sir;  please  do  not  offer  me  money  again  unless 
I  have  earned  it,"  replied  the  boy,  in  an  equally  low  tone. 

"  But  as  a  reward  for  finding  the  pocketbook,"  persisted  Mr, 
Middleton. 

"  That  was  a  piece  of  good  fortune,  sir,  and  deserved  no  r^ 
ward,"  replied  Ishmael. 

"  Then  for  restoring  it  to  me." 

*'  That  was  simple  honesty,  sir,  and  merited  nothing  either.* 

"  Still,  there  would  be  no  harm  in  your  taking  this  from  me,* 
insisted  Mr.  Middleton,  pressing  the  gold  upon  the  boy, 

"  'No,  sir ;  perhaps  there  would  not  be ;  but  I  am  sure — I  aiS| 
Tery  sure — that  Thomas  Jefferson  when  he  was  a  boy  would 
never  have  let  anybody  pay  him  for  being  honest !  " 

"  Who  ? "  demanded  Mr.  Middleton,  with  a  look  of  perplexity, 

"  Thomas  Jefferson,  sir,  who  wrote  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence, that  I  read  of  in  that  beautiful  history  you  gave  me.* 

"  Oh !  "  said  Mr.  Middleton,  ceasing  to  press  the  money  upon 
the  boy,  but  putting  it  in  his  pocketbook  and  returning  tlse 
jxxjketbook  to  his  pocket.  "  Oh !  and  by  the  way,  I  am  told  that 
you  have  sold  that  history  to-day." 

"Yes!  for  money  to  buy  spinning-tops  and  marbles  withS^** 
put  in  Miss  Claudia. 

Ishmael  looked  around  in  dismay  for  a  moment,  and  tLeW 
burst  out  with: 

"  Oh,  sir !  indeed,  indeed  I  did  not ! " 

"  What !  you  didn't  sell  it  ?  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Middleton. 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir,  I  sold  it ! "  said  Ishmael,  as  the  irrepressible 
tears  rushed  to  his  eyes.  "  I  sold  it !  I  was  obliged  to  do  so  t 
Patrick  Henry  would  have  done  it,  sir ! " 

"  But  you  did  not  sell  it  to  get  money  to  buy  toys  with  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  no,  sir !  It  was  a  matter  of  life  and  death, 
else  I  never  would  have  parted  with  my  book ! " 

"  Tell  me  all  about  it,  my  boy." 

"  My  Aiuit  Hannah  has  been  ill  in  bed  all  the  winter.  T 
haven't  been  able  to  earn  anything  for  the  last  month.  We 
got  out  of  money  and  provisions.  And  Mr.  Nutt  wouldn't 
trust  us  for  anything — ■ — " 

"  Uncle,  mind  you,  don't  deal  with  that  horrid  man  any 
more !  "  interrupted  Claudia. 

"  Did  you  owe  him  much,  my  boy  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Middleton, 


CLAUDIA   TO    THE   EESCUE.  211 

"Kot  a  penny,  sir!  We  never  went  in  debt  and  never  even 
asked  for  credit  before." 

"  Go  on." 

"  Well,  sir,  to-day  Aunt  Hannah  wanted  a  cup  of  tea  so  badly 
that  she  cried  for  it,  sir — cried  like  any  little  baby,  and  said 
she  would  die  if  she  didn't  get  it;  and  so  I  brought  my  book 
to  to\vn  this  afternoon  and  sold  it  to  get  the  money  to  buy  what 
she  wanted." 

"  But  you  had  the  pocketbook  full  of  money ;  why  didn't  you 
take  some  of  that  ?  " 

"  The  Lord  says  '  Thou  shalt  not  steal ! '  " 

"  But  that  would  have  been  only  taking  in  advance  what 
would  certainly  have  been  offered  to  you  as  a  reward." 

"  I  did  think  of  that  when  aunt  was  crying  for  tea ;  but  then. 
I  knew  John  Hancock  never  would  have  done  so,  and  I  wouldn't, 
so  I  sold  my  book." 

"  There,  uncle !  I  said  so !  Now !  now !  what  do  you  think 
now  ?  "  exclaimed  Claudia. 

"  It  must  have  cost  you  much  to  part  with  your  treasure,  my 
boy !  "  said  Mr.  Middleton,  without  heeding  the  interruption  of 
Claudia. 

Ishmael's  features  quivered,  his  eyes  filled  with  tears  and 
his  voice  failed  in  the  attempt  to  answer. 

"  There  is  your  book,  my  lad !  It  would  be  a  sin  to  keep  it 
from  you,"  said  Mr.  Middleton,  taking  a  packet  from  the 
bottom  of  the  sleigh  and  laying  it  upon  Ishmael's  knees. 

"My  book!  my  book  again!     Oh,  oh,  sir!     I "  His  voice 

sank;   but  his  pale  face  beamed  with  surprise,   delight,   and 
gratitude. 

"  Yes,  it  is  yours,  my  boy,  my  noble  boy !  I  give  it  to  you 
once  more;  not  as  any  sort  of  a  reward;  but  simply  because  I 
•think  it  would  be  a  sin  to  deprive  you  of  that  which  is  yours 
by  a  sacred  right.  Keep  it,  and  make  its  history  still  your 
study,  and  its  heroes  still  your  models,"  said  Mr.  Middleton, 
with  emotion. 

Ishamael  was  trembling  with  joy!  His  delight  at  recover- 
ing his  lost  treasure  was  even  greater  than  his  joy  at  first 
possessing  it  had  been.  He  tried  to  thank  the  donor;  but  his 
gratitude  was  too  intense  to  find  utterance  in  words. 

"  There,  there,  I  know  it  all  as  well  as  if  you  had  expressed 
it  with  the  eloquence  of  Cicero,  my  boy,"  said  Mr.  Middleton. 

"Uncle,  you  are  such  a  good  old  gander  that  I  would  hug 


212      ishmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

and  kiss  you  if  I  could  do  so  without  climbing  over  au)  "  said 
Claudia. 

"  Mr.  Middleton,  do  let  us  get  along  a  little  faster !  or  we 
shall  not  reach  home  until  dark,"  said  the  lady. 

"  My  good,  little  old  wife,  it  will  not  be  dark  this  night. 
The  moon  is  rising,  and  between  the  moon  above  and  the  snow 
beneath,  we  shall  have  it  as  light  as  day  all  night.  However, 
here  goes !  "  And  Mr.  Middleton  touched  up  his  horse  and 
they  flew  as  before  the  wind. 

It  was  a  glorious  ride  through  a  glorious  scene!  The  set- 
ting sun  was  kindling  all  the  western  sky  into  a  dazzling 
effulgence,  and  sending  long  golden  lines  of  light  through  the 
interstices  of  the  forest  on  one  hand,  and  the  rising  moon 
was  flooding  the  eastern  heavens  M'ith  a  silvery  radiance  on  the 
other.     The  sleigh  flew  as  if  drawn  by  winged  horses. 

"  Isn't  it  grand,  Ishmael  ?  "  inquired  Claudia. 

"  Oh,  yes,  indeed,  miss !  "  responded  the  boy,  with  fervor. 

In  twenty  minutes  they  had  reached  the  turnpike  road  from 
which  started  the  little  narrow  foot-path  leading  through  the 
forest  to  the  hut. 

"Well,  my  boy,  here  we  are!  jump  out!  Good-night!  I 
shall  not  lose  sight  of  you !  "  said  Mr.  Middleton,  as  he  drew 
up  to  let  Ishmael  alight. 

"Good-night,  sir;  good-night,  madam;  good-night.  Miss 
Claudia.  I  thanlc  you  more  than  I  can  express,  sir ;  but,  indeed, 
indeed,  I  will  ti*y  to  deserve  your  kindness,"  said  Ishmael,  as 
he  bowed,  and  took  his  pack  once  more  upon  his  back  and  sped 
on  through  the  narrow  forest-path  that  led  to  h'  humble  home. 
His  very  soul  within  him  was  singing  for  joy. 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

A  TURNING  POINT  IN  ISHMAEL'S  LIFE. 

There  is  a  thought,  so  purely  blest, 

That  to  its  use  I  oft  repair, 
When  evil  breaks  my  spirit's  rest, 

And  pleasure  is  but  varied  care; 
jVthougj'it  to  light  tlie  dnrkest  skies, 

To  deck  with  flowers  the  bleakest  moor, 
A  thought  whose  home  is  paradise, 

Tl  e  charities  of  Poor  to  Poor. 

— Richard  Monckton  Milnea. 

Ishmael  lifted  the  latch  and  entered  the  hut,  softly  lest 
Hannah  should  have  fallen  asleep  and  he  should  awaken  her. 


A  TUENma  pomT  m  ishmael's  life.        213 

He  was  right.     The  invalid  had  dropped  into  one  of  those  f 
tjoft,  refreshing  slumbers  that  often  visit  and  relieve  the  bed- 
ridden and  exhausted  sufferer. 

Ishmael  closed  the  door,  and  moving  about  noiselessly,  placed 
his  treasured  book  on  the  bureau;  put  away  his  provisions  in 
the  cupboard;  rekindled  the  smoldering  fire;  hung  on  the  tea- 
kettle; set  a  little  stand  by  Hannah's  bedside,  covered  it  with 
a  white  napkin  and  arranged  a  little  tea  service  upon  it;  and 
then  drew  his  little  three-legged  stool  to  the  fire  and  sat  down 
to  warm  and  rest  his  cold  and  tired  limbs,  and  to  watch  tha 
teakettle  boil. 

Poor  child!  His  feeble  frame  had  been  fearfully  over- 
tasked, and  so  the  heat  of  the  fire  and  the  stillness  of  the  room, 
both  acting  upon  his  exhausted  nature,  sent  him  also  to  sleep, 
and  he  was  soon  nodding. 

He  was  aroused  by  the  voice  of  Hannah,  who  had  quietly 
awakened. 

"  Is  that  you,  Ishmael  ?  "  she  said. 

"Yes,  aunt,"  he  exclaimed,  starting  up  with  a  jerk  and 
rubbing  his  eyes ;  "  and  I  have  got  the  tea  and  things ;  and  the 
kettle  is  boiling;  but  I  thought  I  wouldn't  set  the  tea  to  draw 
until  you  woke  up,  for  fear  it  should  be  flat." 

"  Come  here,  my  child,"  said  Hannah,  in  a  kindly  voice,  for 
you  see  the  woman  had  had  a  good  sleep  and  had  awakened 
much  refreshed,  with  calmer  nerves  and  consequently  better 
temper. 

"Come  to  me,  Ishmael,"  repeated  Hannah;  for  the  boy  had 
delayed  obeying  long  enough  to  set  the  tea  to  draw,  and  cut  a 
slice  of  bread  and  set  it  down  to  toast. 

When  Ishmael  went  to  her  she  raised  herself  up,  took  his 
thin  face  between  her  hands  and  gazed  tenderly  into  it,  saying : 

"  I  was  cross  to  you,  my  poor  lad,  this  morning ;  but,  oh, 
Ishmael,  I  felt  so  badly  I  was  net  myself." 

"I  know  that.  Aunt  Hannah;  because  when  you  are  well 
you  are  always  good  to  me ;  but  let  me  run  and  turn  your  toast 
now,  or  it  will  burn;  I  will  come  back  to  you  rarectly."  And 
the  practical  little  fellow  flew  off  to  the  firepiace,  turned  the 
bread  and  flew  back  to  Hannah. 

"  But  where  did  you  get  the  tea,  my  child  ?  "  she  inquired. 

Ishmael  told  her  all  about  it  in  a  few  words. 

"  And  so  yo  a  walked  all  the  way  back  again  to  Baymouth, 
tired   and  hungry  as  you  were;  and  you  sold  your  precioua 


214  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IJT   THE   DEPTHS, 

book,  mucli  as  you  loved  it,  all  to  get  tea  for  me !  Oh,  my 
boy,  my  boy,  how  unjust  I  have  been  to  you!  But  I  am  so 
glad  Mr.  Middleton  bought  it  back  and  gave  it  to  you  again! 
And  the  pocketbook  was  his!  and  you  gave  it  to  him  and 
would  not  take  any  reward  for  finding  it!  That  was  right, 
Ishmael ;  that  was  right !  And  it  seems  to  me  that  every  good 
thing  you  have  ever  got  in  this  world  has  come  through  your 
own  right  doing,"  was  the  comment  of  Hannah  upon  all  this. 

"  Well,  aunt,  now  the  tea  is  drawn  and  the  toast  is  ready,  let 
me  fix  it  on  the  stand  for  you,"  said  Ishmael,  hurrying  off  to 
perform  this  duty. 

That  evening  Hannah  enjoyed  her  tea  and  dry  toast  only  as  a 
■woman  long  debarred  from  these  feminine  necessaries  could 
enjoy  them. 

When  Ishmael  also  had  had  his  supper  and  had  cleared  away 
the  tea  service,  he  took  down  his  book,  lighted  his  little  bit  of 
candle,  and — as  his  aunt  was  in  a  benignant  humor,  he  went  to 
her  for  sympathy  in  his  studies — saying: 

"  l^Tow,  aunt,  don't  mope  and  pine  any  more !  George  Wash- 
ington didn't,  even  when  the  army  was  at  Valley  Forge  and 
the  snow  was  so  deep  and  the  soldiers  were  barefooted !  Let 
me  read  you  something  out  of  my  book  to  amuse  you!  Come, 
now,  I'll  read  to  you  what  General  Marion  did  when " 

"  JSTo,  don't,  that's  a  good  boy,"  exclaimed  Hannah,  inter- 
rupting him  in  alarm,  for  she  had  a  perfect  horror  of  books. 
*'  You  know  it  would  tire  me  to  death,  dear !  But  just  you  sit 
down  by  me  and  tell  me  about  Mrs.  Middleton  and  Miss  Merlin 
and  how  they  were  dressed.  For  you  know,  dear,  as  I  haven't 
been  able  to  go  to  church  these  three  months,  I  don't  even  know 
what  sort  of  bonnets  ladies  wear." 

This  requirement  was  for  a  moment  a  perfect  "  poser "  to 
Ishmael.  He  wasn't  interested  in  bonnets !  But,  however,  as 
he  had  the  faculty  of  seeing,  understanding,  and  remembering 
everything  that  fell  under  his  observation  in  his  own  limited 
sphere,  he  blew  out  his  candle,  sat  down  and  complied  with  his 
aunt's  request,  narrating  and  describing  until  she  went  to 
sleep.  Then  he  relighted  his  little  bit  of  candle  and  sat  down 
to  enjoy  his  book  in  comfort. 

That  night  the  wind  shifted  to  the  south  and  brought  in  a 
mild  spell  of  weather. 

The  next  day  the  snow  began  to  melt.  In  a  week  it  was  en- 
tirely gone.     In  a  fortnight  the  ground  had  dried.     All  the 


A   TURIS^ING    POINT   IN    ISHJIAEL's    LIFE.  215 

roads  became  passable.  With  the  improved  weather  Hannah 
grew  better.  She  was  able  to  leave  her  bed  in  the  morning, 
and  sit  in  her  old  arm-chair  in  the  chimney  corner  all  day. 

The  professor  came  to  look  after  his  pupil. 

Poor  old  odd-jobber !  In  his  palmiest  days  he  had  never  made 
more  than  sufficient  for  the  support  of  his  large  family ;  he  had 
never  been  able  to  lay  up  any  money;  and  so  during  this  long 
and  severe  winter,  when  he  was  frozen  out  of  work,  he  and  his 
humble  household  suffered  many  privations;  not  so  many  as 
Hannah  and  Ishmael  had;  for  you  see  there  are  degrees  of 
poverty  even  among  the  very  poor. 

And  the  good  professor  knew  this ;  and  so  on  that  fine  March 
morning,  when  he  made  his  appearance  at  the  hut,  it  was  with 
a  bag  of  flour  on  his  back  and  a  side  of  bacon  in  his  hand. 

After  the  primitive  manners  of  the  neighborhood,  he  dis- 
pensed with  rapping,  and  just  lifted  the  latch  and  walked  in. 

He  found  Hannah  sitting  propped  up  in  her  arm-chair  in 
the  chimney-corner  engaged  in  knitting  and  glancing  ruefully 
at  the  unfinished  web  of  cloth  in  the  motionless  loom,  at  which 
she  was  not  yet  strong  enough  to  work. 

Ishmael  was  washing  his  own  clothes  in  a  little  tub  in  the 
other  corner. 

"  Morning,  Miss  Hannah !  Morning,  young  Ishmael !  "  said 
the  professor,  depositing  both  his  bag  and  bacon  on  the  floor. 
"  I  thought  I  had  better  just  drop  in  and  see  after  my  'prentice. 
Work  has  been  frozen  up  all  winter,  and  now,  like  the  rivers 
and  the  snow-drifts,  it  is  thawed  and  coming  with  a  rush! 
I'm  nigh  torn  to  pieces  by  the  people  as  has  been  sending  after 
me;  and  I  thought  I  would  just  take  young  Ishmael  on  again  to 
help  me.  And — as  I  heard  how  you'd  been  disabled  along  of 
the  rheumatism,  Miss  Hannah,  and  wasn't  able  to  do  no  weav- 
ing, and  as  I  knowed  young  Ishmael  would  be  out  of  work  as 
long  as  I  was,  I  just  made  so  free.  Miss  Hannah,  as  to  bring 
you  this  bag  of  flour  and  middling  of  bacon,  which  I  hope 
you'll  do  me  the  honor  of  accepting  from  a  well-wisher." 

"  I  thank  you,  Morris ;  I  thank  you,  very  much ;  but  I  cannot 
think  of  accepting  such  assistance  from  you;  I  know  that  even, 
you  and  your  family  must  have  suffered  something  from  this 
long  frost;  and  I  cannot  take  the  gift." 

"Law,  Miss  Hannah,"  interrupted  the  honest  fellow,  "I 
never  presumed  to  think  of  such  a  piece  of  impertinence  as  to 
ofier  it  to  you  as  a  gift !    I  only  make  free  to  beg  you  will  take 


216  isilviael;  or,  ui  the  depths. 

it  as  an  advance  on  account  of  young  Islunael's  wages,  as  he'll 
be  sure  to  earn;  for,  bless  you,  miss,  work  is  a-pouring  in  on 
top  of  me  like  the  cataract  of  Niagara  itself!  And  I  shall 
want  all  his  help.  And  as  I  mayn't  have  the  money  to  pay  him 
all  at  once,  I  would  consider  of  it  as  a  favor  to  a  poor  man  if 
you  would  take  this  much  of  me  in  advance,"  said  the  pro- 
fessor. 

Now  whether  Hannah  was  really  deceived  by  the  benevolent 
diplomacy  of  the  good  professor  or  not,  I  do  not  know;  but  at 
any  rate  her  sensitive  pride  was  hushed  by  the  prospect  held  out 
of  Ishmael's  labor  paying  for  the  provisions,  and — as  she  had 
not  tasted  meat  for  three  weeks  and  her  very  soul  longed  for 
a  savory  "rasher,"  she  replied: 

"  Oh,  very  well,  Morris,  if  you  will  take  the  price  out  of  Ish- 
mael's wages,  I  will  accept  the  things  and  thank  you  kindly 
too;  foir  to  be  candid  with  so  good  a  friend  as  yourself,  I  was 
•wanting  a  bit  of  broiled  bacon." 

"  Law,  Miss  Hannah !  It  will  be  the  greatest  accommodation 
of  me  as  ever  was,"  replied  the  unscrupulous  professor. 

Ishmael  understood  it  all. 

"  Indeed,  professor,"  he  said,  "  I  think  Israel  Putnam  would 
have  approved  of  you." 

"  Well,  young  Ishmael,  I  don't  know ;  when  I  mean  well, 
my  acts  often  work  evil;  and  sometimes  I  don't  even  mean 
well!  But  it  wasn't  to  talk  of  myself  as  I  came  here  this 
morning;  but  to  talk  to  you.  You  see  I  promised  to  go  over  to 
Squire  Hall's  and  do  several  jobs  for  him  to-morrow  forenoon; 
and  to-morrow  afternoon  I  have  got  to  go  to  old  Mr.  Truman's ; 
and  to-morrow  night  I  have  to  lead  the  exercises  at  the  colored 
people's  missionary  meeting  at  Colonel  Mervin's.  And  as  all 
that  will  be  a  long  day's  work  I  shall  have  to  make  a  pretty 
early  start  in  the  morning ;  and  of  course  as  I  shall  want  you  to 
go  with  me,  I  shall  expect  you  to  be  at  my  house  as  early  as 
six  o'clock  in  the  morning !    Can  you  do  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  professor,"  answered  Ishmael,  so  promptly  and 
cheerfully  that  Morris  laid  his  hand  upon  the  boy's  head  and 
smiled  upon  him  as  he  said,  addressing  Hannah: 

"  I  take  great  comfort  in  this  boy,  Miss  Hannah !  I  look 
upon  him  a'most  as  my  own  son  and  the  prop  of  my  declining 
years ;  and  I  hope  to  prepare  him  to  succeed  me  in  my  business, 
when  I  know  he  will  do  honor  to  the  profession.  Ah,  Miss 
Hannah,  I  feel  that  I  am  not  as  young  as  I  used  to  be;  in  fact 


A   TUENING    POINT   IN   ISIIIVIAEL's    LIFE.  217 

that  I  am  rather  past  my  first  youth ;  being  about  fifty-two  years 
of  age;  professional  duties  wear  a  man.  Miss  Hannah!  But 
when  I  look  at  this  boy  I  am  consoled !  I  say  to  myself,  though 
I  have  no  son,  I  shall  have  a  successor  who  will  do  credit  to 
my  memory,  my  teachings,  and  my  profession!  I  say,  that, 
fall  when  it  may,  my  mantle  will  fall  upon  his  shoulders !  " 
concluded  Jim  with  emotion.  x\nd  like  all  other  great  orators, 
after  having  produced  his  finest  effect  he  made  his  exit. 

The  next  morning,  according  to  promise,  Ishmael  rendered 
himself  at  the  appointed  hour  at  the  professor's  cottage.  They 
set  out  together  upon  their  day's  round  of  professional  visits. 
The  forenoon  was  spent  at  Squire  Hall's  in  mending  a  pump, 
fitting  up  some  rain  pipes,  and  putting  locks  on  some  of  the 
cabin  doors.  Then  they  got  their  dinner.  The  afternoon  was 
spent  at  old  Mr.  Truman's  in  altering  the  position  of  the 
lightning  rod,  laying  a  hearth,  and  glazing  some  windows. 
And  there  they  got  their  tea.  The  evening  was  spent  in  lead- 
ing the  exercises  of  the  colored  people's  missionary  meeting 
at  Colonel  Mervin's.  As  the  session  was  rather  long,  it  was 
after  ten  o'clock  before  they  left  the  meetinghouse  on  their 
return  home.  The  night  was  pitch  dark;  the  rain,  that  had 
been  threatening  all  day  long,  now  fell  in  torrents. 

They  had  a  full  four  miles'  walk  before  them;  but  the  pro- 
fessor had  an  ample  old  cotton  imabrella  that  sheltered  both 
himself  and  his  pupil ;  so  they  trudged  manfully  onward,  cheer- 
ing the  way  with  lively  talk  instead  of  overshadowing  it  with 
complaints. 

"  Black  as  pitch !  not  a  star  to  be  seen !  but  courage,  my  boy ! 
we  shall  enjoy  the  light  of  the  fireside  all  the  more  when  we 
get  home,"  said  the  professor. 

"Yes!  there's  one  star,  professor,  just  rising, — rising  away 
there  on  the  horizon  beyond  Brudenell  Hall,"  said  Ishmael. 

"  So  there  is  a  star,  or — something !  it  looks  more  like  the 
moon  rising;  only  there's  no  moon,"  said  Morris,  scrutinizing 
the  small  dull  red  glare  that  hung  upon  the  skirts  of  the 
horizon. 

"It  looks  more  like  a  bonfire  than  either,  just  now,"  added 
the  boy,  as  the  lurid  red  light  suddenly  burst  into  flame. 

"It  is !  it  is  a  large  fire !  "  cried  the  professor,  as  the  whole 
sky  became  suddenly  illmninated  with  a  red  glare. 

"  It  is  Brudenell  Hall  in  flames ! "  exclaimed  Ishmael  Worth, 
in  horror.    "  Let  us  hurry  on  and  see  if  we  can  do  any  good." 


218  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE    DEPTHS. 

CHAPTEE  XXVI. 

THE  FIRE  AT  BRUDENELL  HALL. 

Seize  then  the  occasion;  by  the  forelock  take 
That  subtle  power  the  never  halting  time, 
Lest  a  mere  moment's  putting  off  should  make 
Mischance  almost  as  heavy  as  a  crime. 

—  Wordsworth. 

Through  the  threefold  darkness  of  night,  clouds,  and  rain 
they  hurried  on  towards  that  fearful  beacon  light  which  flamed 
on  the  edge  of  the  horizon. 

The  rain,  which  continued  to  pour  down  in  torrents,  appeared 
to  dampen  without  extinguishing  the  fixe,  which  blazed  and 
smoldered  at  intervals. 

"  Professor  ? "  said  the  boy,  as  they  toiled  onward  through 
the  storm. 

"  Well,  young  Ishmael  ?  " 

"  It  seems  to  me  the  fire  is  inside  the  house." 

"  Why  so,  young  Ishmael  ?  " 

"  Because  if  it  wasn't,  this  storm  would  put  it  out  at  once ! 
Why,  if  it  had  been  the  roof  that  caught  from  a  burning  chim- 
ney this  driving  rain  would  have  quenched  it  in  no  time;." 

"  The  roof  couldn't  catch,  young  Ishmael ;  it  is  all  slate." 

"  Oh ! "  ejaculated  Ishmael,  as  they  increased  their  speed. 
They  proceeded  in  silence  for  a  few  minutes,  keeping  their 
eyes  &Ked  on  the  burning  building,  when  Ishmael  suddenly 
exclaimed : 

"  The  house  is  burning  inside,  professor !  You  can  see  now 
t;he  windows  distinctly  shaped  out  in  fire  against  the  blackness 
of  the  building !  " 

"  Just  so,  young  Ishmael !  " 

"Now,  then,  professor,  we  must  run  on  as  fast  as  ever  we 
can  if  we  expect  to  be  of  any  use.  George  Washington  was  al- 
ways prompt  in  times  of  danger.  Remember  the  night  he 
crossed  the  Delaware.     Come,  professor,  let  us  run  on ! " 

"  Oh  yes,  young  Ishmael,  it  is  all  very  well  for  you  to  say — - 
run  on !  but  how  the  deuce  am  I  to  do  it,  with  the  rain  and 
"wind  beating  this  old  umbrella  this  way  and  that  way,  until, 
instead  of  being  a  protection  to  our  persons,  it  is  a  hindrance 
to  our  progress !  "  said  the  professor,  as  he  tried  in  vain  to  shel- 
ter himself  and  his  companion  from  the  fury  of  the  floods  of 
rain. 


THE    FIRE   AT   BKUDENELL    HALL.  219 

"I  think  you  had  better  let  it  down,  professor,"  suggested 

the  boy. 

"If  I  did  we  should  get  wet  to  the  skin,  young  Ishmael," 

objected  Morris. 

"  All  right,  professor.  The  wetter  we  get  the  better  we  shall 
be  prepared  to  fight  the  fire." 

"  That  is  true  enough,  young  Ishmael,"  admitted  Morris. 

"  And  besides,  if  you  let  the  umbrella  down  you  can  furl  it 
and  use  it  for  a  walking-stick,  and  instead  of  being  a  hindrance 
it  will  be  a  help  to  you." 

"  That  is  a  good  idea,  young  Ishmael.  Upon  my  word,  I 
think  if  you  had  been  born  in  a  higher  speer  of  society,  young 
Ishmael,  your  talents  would  have  caused  you  to  be  sent  to  the 
State's  legislature,  I  do  indeed.  And  you  might  even  have 
come  to  be  put  on  the  Committee  of  Ways  and  Means." 

"I  hope  that  is  not  a  committee  of  mean  ways,  professor.'* 

"Ha,  ha,  ha!  There  you  are  again!  I  say  it  and  I  stand 
to  it,  if  you  had  been  born  in  a  more  elevated  speer  you 
would  have  ris'  to  be  something ! " 

"  Law,  professor !  " 

"  Well,  I  do !  and  it  is  a  pity  you  hadn't  been !  As  it  is,  my 
poor  boy,  you  will  have  to  be  contented  to  do  your  duty  '  in  that 
station  to  which  the  Lord  has  been  pleased  to  call  you,'  as  the 
Scriptur'  says." 

"  As  the  catechism  says,  professor !  The  Scripture  says  noth- 
ing about  stations.     The  Lord  in  no  respecter  of  persons." 

"  Catechism,  was  it  ?    Well,  it's  all  the  same." 

"  Professor !  look  how  the  flames  are  pouring  from  that  win- 
dow !  Run !  run !  "  And  with  these  words  Ishmael  took  to  his 
heels  and  ran  as  fast  as  darkness,  rain,  and  wind  would  permit 
him. 

The  professor  took  after  him;  but  having  shorter  wind, 
though  longer  legs,  than  his  young  companion,  he  barely  man- 
aged to  keep  up  with  the  flying  boy. 

When  they  arrived  upon  the  premises  a  wild  scene  of  con- 
fusion lighted  up  by  a  lurid  glare  of  fire  met  their  view.  The 
right  wing  of  the  mansion  was  on  fire;  the  flames  were  pouring 
from  the  front  windows  at  that  end.  A  crowd  of  frightened 
negroes  were  hurrying  towards  the  building  with  water  buckets ; 
others  were  standing  on  ladders  placed  against  the  wall ;  others 
again  were  clinging  about  the  eaves,  or  standing  on  the  roof; 
and  all  these  were  engaged  in  passing  buckets  from  hand  to 


220  ishmael;  ok,  in  the  depths. 

hand,  or  dashing  water  on  the  burning  timbers;  all  poor  in- 
effectual efforts  to  extinguish  the  fire,  carried  on  amid  shouts, 
cries,  and  halloos  that  only  added  to  the  horrible  confusion. 

A  little  further  removed,  the  women  and  children  of  the 
family,  heedless  of  the  pouring  rain,  were  clinging  together, 
under  the  old  elm  tree.  The  master  of  the  house  was  nowhere 
to  be  seen;  nor  did  there  appear  to  be  any  controlling  head  to 
direct  the  confused  mob;  or  any  system  in  their  work. 

"  Professor,  they  have  got  no  hose !  they  are  trying  to  put 
the  fire  out  with  buckets  of  water!  that  only  keeps  it  under  a 
little;  it  will  not  put  it  out.  Let  me  run  to  your  house  and  get 
the  hose  you  wash  windows  and  water  trees  with,  and  we  can 
play  it  right  through  that  window  into  the  burning  room,"  said 
Ishmael  breathlessly.  And  without  waiting  for  permission,  he 
dashed  away  in  the  direction  of  Morris'  house. 

"  Where  the  deuce  is  the  master  ? "  inquired  the  professor, 
as  he  seized  a  full  bucket  of  water  from  a  man  on  the  ground, 
and  passed  it  up  to  the  overseer,  Grainger,  who  was  stationed 
on  the  ladder. 

"  He  went  out  to  an  oyster  supper  at  Commodore  Burghe's, 
and  he  hasn't  got  back  yet,"  answered  the  man,  as  he  took  the 
bucket  and  passed  it  to  a  negro  on  the  roof. 

"  How  the  mischief  did  the  fire  break  out  ? "  inquired  the 
professor,  handing  up  another  bucket. 

"  Nobody  knows.  The  mistress  first  found  it  out.  She  was 
•woke  up  a-smelling  of  smoke,  and  screeched  out,  and  alarmed 
the  house,  and  all  run  out  here.  Be  careful  there.  Jovial! 
Don't  be  afraid  of  singing  your  old  wool  nor  breaking  your  old 
neck  either!  because  if  you  did  you'd  only  be  saving  the  hang- 
man and  the  devil  trouble.  Go  nearer  to  that  window!  dash 
the  water  full  upon  the  flames ! " 

"  Are  all  safe  out  of  the  house  ? "  anxiously  inquired  the 
professor. 

"  Every  soul !  "  was  the  satisfactory  answer. 

At  this  moment  Ishmael  came  running  up  with  the  hose, 
exclaiming : 

"  Here,  professor !  if  you  will  take  this  end,  I  will  run  and 
put  the  sucker  to  the  spout  of  the  pump." 

"  Good  fellow,  be  off  then ! "  answered  Morris. 

The  hose  was  soon  adjusted  and  played  into  the  burning 
room. 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  sudden  outcry  from  the  group 


TIIE   FIllE   AT   BEUDENELL   HALL.  221 

of  women  and  children,  and  the  form  of  Mrs.  Middleton  was 
seen  flying  through  the  darkness  towards  the  firemen. 

"  Oh,  Grainger !  "  she  cried,  as  soon  as  she  had  reached  the 
spot,  "  oh,  Grainger !  the  Burghe  boys  are  still  in  the  house. 
I  thought  they  had  been  out !  I  thought  I  had  seen  them  out ! 
but  it  was  two  negro  boys  I  mistook  in  the  dark  for  them!  I 
have  just  found  out  my  mistake!  Oh,  Grainger,  they  will 
perish !     What  is  to  be  done  ?  " 

"  Tends  on  what  room  they're  in,  ma'am,"  hastily  replied 
the  overseer,  while  all  the  others  stood  speechless  with  intense 
anxiety. 

"  Oh,  they  are  in  the  front  chamber  there,  immediately 
above  the  burning  room !  "  cried  Mrs.  Middleton,  wringing  her 
hands  in  anguish,  while  those  around  suspended  their  breath 
in  horror. 

"  More  than  a  man's  life  would  be  worth  to  venture,  ma'am. 
The  ceiling  of  that  burning  room  is  on  fire;  it  may  fall  in  any 
minute,  carrying  the  floor  of  the  upper  room  with  it ! " 

"  Oh,  Grainger !  but  the  poor,  poor  lads !  to  perish  so  hor* 
ribly  in  their  early  youth !  " 

"  It's  dreadful,  ma'am ;  but  it  can't  be  helped !  It's  as  much 
as  certain  death  to  any  man  as  goes  into  that  part  of  the  build- 
ing!" 

"  Grainger !  Grainger !  I  cannot  abandon  these  poor  boys  to 
their  fate!  Think  of  their  mother!  Grainger,  I  will  give  any 
man  his  freedom  who  will  rescue  those  two  boys!  It  is  said 
men  will  risk  their  lives  for  that.  Get  up  on  the  ladder  where 
you  can  be  seen  and  heard  and  proclaim  this — shout  it  forth: 
*  Freedom  to  any  slave  who  will  save  the  Burghe  boys ! ' " 

The  overseer  climbed  up  the  ladder,  and  after  calling  the 
attention  of  the  whole  mob  by  three  loud  whoops  and  waiting 
a  moment  until  quiet  was  restored,  he  shouted : 

"  Freedom  to  any  slave  who  will  save  the  Burghe  boys  f  ronj 
the  burning  building !  " 

He  paused  and  waited  a  response;  but  the  silence  was  un- 
broken. 

"  They  won't  risk  it,  ma'am ;  life  is  sweet,"  said  the  over- 
seer, coming  dovtoi  from  his  post. 

"  I  cannot  give  them  up,  Grainger !  I  cannot  for  their  poor 
mother's  sake!  Go  up  once  more!  Shout  forth  that  I  offer 
liberty  to  any  slave  with  his  wife  and  children — if  he  will  save 
those  boys ! "  said  Mrs.  Middleton. 


222  ISHMAEL  ;    OK,  IN   THE    DEPTnS. 

Once  more  the  overseer  mounted  his  post  and  thundered 
forth  the  proclamation: 

"  Freedom  to  any  slave  with  his  wife  and  children,  who  will 
rescue  the  Burghe  boys !  " 

Again  he  paused  for  a  response;  and  nothing  but  dead 
silence  followed. 

"  I  tell  you  they  won't  run  the  risk,  ma'am !  Life  is  sweeter 
than  anything  else  in  this  world ! "  said  the  overseer,  coming 
down. 

"  And  the  children  will  perish  horribly  in  the  fire  and  their 
mother  will  go  raving  mad ;  for  I  know  I  should  in  her  place !  " 
cried  Mrs.  Middleton,  wildly  wringing  her  hands,  and  gazing 
in  helpless  anguish  upon  the  burning  house. 

"  And  oh !  poor  fellows !  they  are  such  naughty  boys  that  they 
will  go  right  from  this  fire  to  the  other  one !  "  cried  Claudia 
Merlin,  running  up,  burying  her  face  in  her  aunt's  gown,  and 
beginning  to  sob. 

"  Oh !  oh !  oh !  that  I  should  live  to  see  such  a  horrible  sight ! 
to  stand  here  and  gaze  at  that  burning  building  and  know  those 
boys  are  perishing  inside  and  not  be  able  to  help  them.  Oh! 
oh !  oh !  "  And  here  Mrs.  Middleton  broke  into  shrieks  and 
cries  in  which  she  was  joined  by  all  the  women  and  children 
present. 

"  Professor !  I  can't  stand  this  any  longer !  I'll  do  it ! " 
exclaimed  Ishmael. 

"  Do  what  ?  "  asked  the  astonished  artist. 

"  Get  those  boys  out." 

"  You  will  kill  yourself  for  nothing." 

"  'No,  there's  a  chance  of  saving  them,  professor,  and  I'll 
risk  it !  "  said  Ishmael,  preparing  for  a  start. 

"  You  are  mad ;  you  shall  not  do  it !  "  exclaimed  the  professor, 
seizing  the  boy  and  holding  him  fast. 

"  Let  me  go,  professor !  Let  me  go,  I  tell  you !  Let  me  go, 
then !  Israel  Putman  would  have  done  it,  and  so  will  I ! " 
cried  Ishmael,  struggling,  breaking  away,  and  dashing  into  the 
burning  building. 

"  But  George  Washington  wouldn't,  you  run  mad  maniac, 
he  would  have  had  more  prudence ! "  yelled  the  professor, 
beside  himself  with  grief  and  terror. 

But  Ishmael  was  out  of  hearing.  He  dashed  into  the  front 
ball,  and  up  the  main  staircase,  through  volumes  of  smoke  that 
rolled   down  and  nearly  suffocated  him.    Ishmael's   excellent 


THE   FIRE   AT   BKUDEI^ELL   HALL.  223 

memory  stood  him  in  good  stead  now.  He  recollected  to  have 
read  that  people  passing  through  burning  houses  filled  with 
smoke  must  keep  their  heads  as  near  the  floor  as  possible,  iu 
order  to  breathe.  So  when  he  reached  the  first  landing,  where 
the  fire  in  the  wing  was  at  its  worst,  and  the  smoke  was  too 
dense  to  be  inhaled  at  all,  he  ducked  his  head  quite  low,  and 
ran  through  the  hall  and  up  the  second  flight  of  stairs  to  the 
floor  upon  which  the  boys  slept. 

He  dashed  on  to  the  front  room  and  tried  the  door.  It  was 
fastened  within.  He  rapped  and  called  and  shouted  aloud. 
In  vain !  The  dwellers  within  were  dead,  or  dead  asleep,  it 
was  impossible  to  tell  which.  He  threw  himself  down  upon 
the  floor  to  get  a  breath  of  air,  and  then  arose  and  renewed 
his  clamor  at  the  door.  He  thumped,  kicked,  shrieked,  hop- 
ing either  to  force  the  door  or  awake  the  sleepers.  Still  in 
vain!  The  silence  of  death  reigned  within  the  chamber;  while 
volumes  of  lurid  red  smoke  began  to  fill  the  passage.  This 
change  in  the  color  of  the  smoke  warned  the  brave  young  boy 
that  the  flames  were  approaching.  At  this  moment,  too,  he 
heard  a  crash,  a  fall,  and  a  sudden  roaring  up  of  the  fire,  some- 
where near  at  hand.  Again  in  frantic  agony  he  renewed  his 
assault  upon  the  door.  This  time  it  was  suddenly  torn  open  by 
the  boys  within. 

And  horrors  of  horrors !  what  a  scene  met  his  appalled  gaze ! 
One  portion  of  the  floor  of  the  room  had  fallen  in,  and  the 
flames  were  rushing  up  through  the  aperture  from  the  gulf  of 
fire  beneath.  The  two  boys,  standing  at  the  open  door,  v/ere 
spell-bound  in  a  sort  of  panic. 

"  What  is  it  ? "  asked  one  of  them,  as  if  uncertain  whether 
this  were  reality  or  nightmare. 

"  It  is  fire !  Don't  you  see !  Quick !  Seize  each  of  you  a 
blanket!  "Wrap  yourselves  up  and  follow  me!  Stoop  near 
the  floor  when  you  want  to  breathe !  Shut  your  eyes  and 
mouths  when  the  flame  blows  too  near.    ISTow  then !  " 

It  is  marvelous  how  quickly  \7e  can  understand  and  execute 
whei-  we  are  in  mortal  peril.  Ishmael  was  instantly  under- 
stood and  obeyed.  The  lads  quick  as  lightning  caught  up 
blankets,  enveloped  theroselves,  and  rushed  from  the  sinking 
room. 

It  was  well!  In  another  moment  the  whole  floor,  with  a 
great,  sobbing  creak,  swayed,  gave  way,  and  fell  into  the  burn- 
ing gulf  of  fire  b^ow.    The  flames  with  a  horrible  roar  rushed 


224  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IIN"   THE   DEPTHS. 

up,  filling  the  upper  space  where  the  chamber  floor  had  been; 
seizing  on  the  window-shutters,  mantel-piece,  door-frames,  and 
all  the  timbers  attached  to  the  walls;  and  finally  streaming  out 
into  the  passage  as  if  in  pursuit  of  the  flying  boys. 

They  hurried  down  the  hot  and  suffocating  staircase  to  the 
first  floor,  where  the  fire  raged  with  the  utmost  fury.  Here 
the  flames  were  bursting  from  the  burning  wing  through  every 
crevice  into  the  passage.  Ishmael,  in  his  wet  woollen  clothes, 
and  the  boys  in  their  blankets,  dashed  for  the  last  flight  of 
stairs — keeping  their  eyes  shut  to  save  their  sight,  and  their 
lips  closed  to  save  their  lungs — and  so  reached  the  ground 
floor. 

Here  a  wall  of  flame  barred  their  exit  through  the  front  door ; 
but  they  turned  and  made  their  escape  through  the  back  one. 

They  were  in  the  open  air!  Scorched,  singed,  blackened, 
choked,  breathless,  but  safe! 

Here  they  paused  a  moment  to  recover  breath,  and  then 
Ishmael  said: 

"  We  must  run  around  to  the  front  and  let  them  know  that 
we  are  out !  "  The  two  boys  that  he  had  saved  obeyed  him  as 
though  he  had  been  their  master. 

Extreme  peril  throws  down  all  false  conventional  barriers 
and  reduces  and  elevates  all  to  their  proper  level.  In  this 
supreme  moment  Ishmael  instinctively  commanded,  and  they 
mechanically  obeyed. 

They  hurried  around  to  the  front.  Here,  as  soon  as  they 
■were  seen  and  recognized,  a  general  shout  of  joy  and  thanks- 
giving greeted  them, 

Ishmael  found  himself  clasped  in  the  arms  of  his  friend, 
the  professor,  whose  tears  rained  dovrn  upon  him  as  he  cried: 

*'  Oh,  my  boy !  my  boy !  my  brave,  noble  boy !  there  is  not 
your  like  upon  this  earth !  no,  there  is  not !  I  would  kneel 
dovsm  and  kiss  your  feet !  I  would !  There  isn't  a  prince  in 
this  world  like  you !  there  isn't,  Ishmael !  there  isn't !  Any  king 
on  this  earth  might  be  proud  of  you  for  his  son  and  heir,  my 
great-hearted  boy !  "  And  the  professor  bowed  his  head  over 
Ishmael  and  sobbed  for  joy  and  gratitude  and  admiration. 

"Was  it  really  so  well  done,  professor?"  asked  Ishmael 
simply. 

"  Well  done,  my  boy  ?  Oh,  but  my  heart  is  full !  Was  it 
well  done  ?  Ah !  my  boy,  you  will  never  know  how  well  done, 
until  the  day  when  the  Lord  shall  judge  the  quick  and  the  dead  I 


THE    FIRE    AT    BEUDENELL   HALL.  225 

^Ah,  if  your  poor  young-  mother  were  living  to  see  her  boy  now  !'* 
cried  the  professor,  with  emotion. 

"  Don't  you  suppose  mother  does  live,  and  does  see  me,  pro- 
fessor? I  do,"  answered  Ishmael,  in  a  sweet,  grave  tone  that 
sounded  like  Nora's  own  voice. 

*'Yes,  I  do!  I  believe  she  does  live  and  watch  over  you, 
my  boy," 

Meanwhile  Mrs.  Middleton,  who  had  been  engaged  in  re- 
ceiving and  rejoicing  over  the  two  rescued  youths,  and  sooth- 
ing a.nd  composing  their  agitated  spirits,  now  came  forward  to 
speak  to  Ishmael. 

"  My  boy,"  she  said,  in  a  voice  shaking  with  emotion,  "  my 
brave,  good  boy!  I  cannot  thank  you  in  set  words;  they  would 
be  too  poor  and  weak  to  tell  you  what  I  feel,  what  we  must  all 
ever  feel  towards  you,  for  what  you  have  done  to-night.  But 
•we  will  find  some  better  means  to  prove  how  much  we  thank, 
Jbow  highly  we  esteem  yoai." 

Ishmael  held  down  his  head,  and  blushed  as  deeply  as  if 
he  had  been  detected  in  some  mean  act  and  reproached  for  it. 

"  You  should  look  up  and  reply  to  the  madam ! "  whispered 
the  professor. 

Ishmael  raised  his  head  and  answered: 

"  My  lady,  I'm  glad  the  young  gentlemen  are  saved  and  you 
are  pleased.  But  I  do  not  wish  to  have  more  credit  than  I  have 
a  right  to ;  for  I  feel  very  sure  George  Washington  wouldn't." 

"  What  do  you  say,  Ishmael  ?  I  do  not  quite  understand  you," 
said  the  lady. 

"  I  mean,  ma'am,  as  it  wasn't  altogether  myself  as  the  credit 
is  due  to." 

"  To  whom  else,  then,  I  should  like  to  know  ?  "  inquired  the 
lady  in  perplexity. 

"Why,  ma'am,  it  was  all  along  of  Israel  Putnam.  I  knew 
he  would  have  done  it,  and  so  I  felt  as  if  I  was  obliged  to ! " 

"  What  a  very  strange  lad !  I  really  do  not  quite  know  what 
to  make  of  him ! "  exclaimed  the  lady,  appealing  to  the  profes- 
sor for  want  of  a  better  oracle. 

"Why,  you  see,  ma'am,  Ishmael  is  a  noble  boy  and  a  real 
hero;  but  he  is  a  bit  of  a  heathen  for  ail  that,  with  a  lot  of 
false  gods,  as  he  is  everlasting  a-falling  down  and  a-worship- 
ing  of !  And  the  names  of  his  gods  are  Washington,  Jefferson, 
Putnam,  Marion,  Plancock,  Henry,  and  the  lot!  The  History 
of  the  United  States  is  his  Bible,  ma'am,  and  its  warriors  and 


226^  ishmael;  oe,  iisr  the  depths. 

statesmen  are  his  saints  and  prophets.  But  by-and-by,  when 
Ishmael  growsr  older,  ma'am,  he  will  learn,  when  he  does  any 
great  or  good  action,  to  give  the  glory  to  God,  and  not  to  those 
dead  and  gone  old  heroes  who  were  only  flesh  and  blood  like 
himself,"  said  the  professor. 

Mrs.  Middleton  looked  pei-plexed,  as  if  the  professor's  ex- 
planation itself  required  to  be  explained.  And  Ishmael,  who 
seemed  to  think  that  a  confession  of  faith  was  imperatively 
demanded  of  him,  looked  anxious — as  if  eager,  yet  ashamed, 
to  speak.     Presently  he  conquered  his  shyness,  and  said: 

"  But  you  are  mistaken,  professor.  I  am  not  a  heathen.  I 
wish  to  be  a  Christian.  And  I  do  give  the  glory  of  all  that 
is  good  and  great  to  the  Lord,  first  of  all.  I  do  honor  the  good 
and  great  men;  but  I  do  glorify  and  worship  the  Lord  who 
made  them."  And  having  satd  this,  Ishmael  collapsed,  hung 
his  head,  and  blushed. 

"  And  I  know  he  is  not  a  heathen,  you  horrid  old  humbug  of 
a  professor !  He  is  a  brave,  good  boy,  and  I  love  him !  "  said 
Miss  Claudia,  joining  the  circle  and  caressing  Ishmael. 

But,  ah !  again  it  was  as  if  she  had  caressed  Fido,  and  said 
that  he  was  a  brave,  good  dog,  and  she  loved  him. 

"  It  was  glorious  in  you  to  risk  your  life  to  save  those  good- 
for-nothing  boys,  who  were  your  enemies  besides !  It  was  so ! 
And  it  makes  my  heart  burn  to  think  of  it !  Stoop  down  and 
kiss  me,  Ishmael !  " 

Our  little  hero  had  the  instincts  of  a  gallant  little  gentle- 
man. And  this  challenge  was  to  be  in  no  wise  rejected.  And 
though  he  blushed  until  his  very  ears  seemed  like  two  little 
flames,  he  stooped  and  touched  with  his  lips  the  beautiful  white 
forehead  that  gleamed  like  marble  beneath  its  curls  of  jet. 
The  storm,  which  had  abated  for  a  time,  now  arose  with  re- 
doubled violence.  The  party  of  women  and  children,  though 
gathered  under  a  group  of  cedars,  were  still  somewhat  exposed 
to  its  fury. 

Grainger,  the  overseer,  who  with  his  men  had  been  unremit- 
ting in  his  endeavors  to  arrest  the  progress  of  the  flames,  now 
came  up,  and  taking  off  his  hat  to  Mrs.  Middleton,  said : 

"  Madam,  I  think,  please  the  Lord,  we  shall  bring  the  fire 
■under  presently  and  save  all  of  the  building  except  that  wing, 
which  must  go.  But,  if  you  please,  ma'am,  I  don't  see  as  you 
can  do  any  good  standing  here  looking  on.  So,  now  that  the 
young  gentlemen  are  safe,  hadn't  you  all  better  take  shelter  in 


ishmael's  first  step  on  the  ladder.      227 

my  house  ?  It  is  poor  and  plain ;  but  it  is  roomy  and  weather- 
tight,  and  altogether  you  and  the  yoimg  gentlemen  and  ladies 
would  be  better  off  there  than  here." 

"  I  thank  you,  Grainger.  I  thank  you  for  your  offer  as  well 
as  for  your  efforts  here  to-night,  and  I  will  gladly  accept  the 
shelter  of  your  roof  for  myself  and  young  friends.  Show  us 
the  way.     Come,  my  children.     Come,  you  also,  Ishmael." 

"  Thank  you  very  much,  ma'am ;  but,  if  I  can't  be  of  any  more 
use  here,  I  must  go  home.  Aunt  Hannah  will  be  looking  for 
me."    And  with  a  low  bow  the  boy  left  the  scene. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 
ishmael's  first  step  on  the  ladimir. 

There  is  a  proud  modesty  in  merit 
Averse  to  asking,  and  resolved  to  pay 
Ten  times  the  gift  it  asks. 

— Dryden. 

Early  the  next  morning  the  professor  made  his  appearance 
at  the  Hill  Hut.  Ishmael  and  Hannah  had  eaten  breakfast, 
and  the  boy  was  helping  his  aunt  to  put  the  warp  in  the  loom 
fcr  a  new  piece  of  cloth. 

"  Morning,  Miss  Hannah ;  morning,  young  Ishmael !  You 
are  wanted,  sir,  up  to  the  Hall  this  morning,  and  I  am  come 
to  fetch  you,"  said  the  professor,  as  he  stood  within  the  door, 
hat  in  hand. 

"  Yes,  I  thought  I  would  be ;  there  must  be  no  end  of  the 
rubbish  to  clear  away,  and  the  work  to  do  up  there  now,  and  I 
knew  you  would  be  expecting  me  to  help  you,  and  so  I  meant 
to  go  up  to  your  house  just  as  soon  as  ever  I  had  done  helping 
aunt  to  put  the  warp  in  her  loom,"  answered  Ishmael  simply. 

"  Oh,  you  think  you  are  wanted  only  to  be  set  to  work,  do  you  ? 
All  right !  But  now  as  we  are  in  a  hurry,  I'll  just  lend  a  hand 
to  this  little  job,  and  help  it  on  a  bit."  And  with  that  the  at- 
tist,  who  was  as  expert  at  one  thing  as  at  another,  began  to  aid 
Hannah  v.'ith  such  good  will  that  the  job  was  soon  done. 

"  And  now,  young  Ishmael,  get  your  hat  and  come  along. 
We  must  be  going." 

But  now,  Hannah,  who  had  been  'far  too  mucn  interested  in 
her  loom  to  stop  to  talk  imtil  its  arrangements  wexe  complete^ 
found  time  to  ask : 


228      ishmael;  or,  i^   the  depths. 

"What  about  that  fire  at  Brudenell  Hall?" 

"  Didn't  young  Ishmael  tell  you,  ma'am  ? "  inquired  the  pro- 
fessor. 

"  Very  little !  I  was  asleep  when  he  came  in  last  night,  and 
this  morning,  when  I  saw  that  his  clothes  were  all  scorched, 
and  his  hair  singed,  and  his  hands  and  face  red  and  blistered, 
and  I  asked  him  what  in  the  world  he  had  been  doing  to  him- 
self, he  told  me  there  had  been  a  fire  at  the  Hall;  but  that  it 
was  put  out  before  any  great  damage  had  been  done;  nothing 
but  that  old  wing,  that  they  talked  about  pulling  down,  burnt, 
as  if  to  save  them  the  trouble,"  answered  Hannah. 

"  Well,  ma'am,  that  was  a  cheerful  way  of  putting  it,  cer- 
tainly; and  it  was  also  a  true  one;  there  wasn't  much  damage 
done,  as  the  wing  that  was  burnt  was  doomed  to  be  pulled 
down,  this  very  spring.  But  did  young  Ishmael  tell  you  how 
he  received  his  injuries  ?  " 

" Iko ;  but  I  suppose  of  course  he  got  them,  boy-like,  bobbing 
about  among  the  firemen,  where  he  had  no  business  to  be ! " 

"  Ma'am,  he  got  burned  in  saving  Commodore  Burghe's  sons,, 
who  were  fast  asleep  in  that  burning  wing !  Mrs.  Middleton 
offered  freedom  to  any  slave  who  would  venture  through  the 
house  to  wake  them  up,  and  get  them  out.  ISTot  a  man  would 
run  the  risk!  Then  she  offered  freedom,  not  only  to  any  slave, 
but  also  to  the  wife  and  children  of  any  slave  who  would  go  in 
and  save  the  boys.  Not  a  man  would  venture !  And  when  all 
the  women  were  a-howling  like  a  pack  of  she-wolves,  what  does 
your  nephew  do  but  rush  into  the  burning  wing,  rouse  up  the 
boys  and  convoy  them  out !  Just  in  time,  too !  for  they  were 
sleeping  in  the  chamber  over  the  burning  room,  and  in  two 
minutes  after  they  got  out  the  floor  of  that  room  fell  in !  "^ 
said  Morris. 

"  You  did  that !  You !  "  exclaimed  Hannah  vehemently. 
"  Oh !  you  horrid,  wicked,  ungrateful,  heartless  boy !  to  do  such 
a  thing  as  that,  when  you  knew  if  you  had  been  burnt  to  death, 
it  would  have  broken  my  heart!  And  you,  professor!  you  are 
just  as  bad  as  he  is !  yes,  and  worse  too,  because  you  are  older 
and  ought  to  have  more  sense !  The  boy  was  in  your  care ! 
pretty  care  you  took  of  him  to  let  him  rush  right  into  the  fire." 

"  Ma'am,  if  you'll  only  let  me  get  in  a  word  edgeways  like, 
I'll  tell  you  all  about  it !  I  did  try  to  hinder  him !  I  reasoned 
with  him,  and  I  held  him  tight,  until  the  young  hero — rascal, 
1  mean — turned  upon  me  and  hit  me  in  the  face;  yes,  ma'am. 


ishmael's  first  step  on  the  ladder.      229 

administered  a  '  scientific '  right  into  my  left  eye,  and  then 
broke  from  me  and  rushed  into  the  burning  house " 

"  Well,  but  I  thought  it  better  the  professor  should  have  a 
black  eye  than  the  boys  shoixld  be  burned  to  death,"  put  in  the 
lad,  edgeways. 

"  Oh,  Ishmael,  Ishmael,  this  is  dreadful !  You  will  live  to 
be  hung,  I  know  you  will !  "  sobbed  Hannah. 

"Well,  aunty,  maybe  so;  Sir  William  Wallace  did,"  coolly 
replied  the  boy. 

"  What  in  the  name  of  goodness  set  you  on  to  do  such  a  wild 
thing?  And  all  for  old  Burghe's  sons!  Pray,  what  were  they 
to  you  that  you  should  rush  through  burning  flames  for  them  ?  '* 

"  Nothing,  Aunt  Hannah ;  only  I  felt  quite  sure  that  Israel 
Putnam  or  Francis  Marion  would  have  done  just  as  I  did, 
and  so " 

"  Plague  take  Francis  Putnam  and  Israel  Marion,  and  also 
Patrick  Handcock,  and  the  whole  lot  of  'em,  I  say!  Who  are 
they  that  you  should  inin  your  head  into  the  fire  for  them? 
They  wouldn't  do  it  for  you,  that  I  know,"  exclaimed  Hannah, 

"  Aunt  Hannah,"  said  Ishmael  pathetically,  "  you  have  got 
their  names  all  wrong,  and  you  always  do !  'No'w,  if  you  would 
only  take  my  book  and  read  it  while  you  are  resting  in  your 
chair,  you  would  soon  learn  all  their  names,  and " 

"  I'll  take  the  book  and  throw  it  into  the  fire  the  very  first 
time  I  lay  my  hands  on  it !  The  fetched  book  will  be  your  ruin 
yet !  "  exclaimed  Hannah,  in  a  rage. 

"  Now,  Miss  Worth,"  interposed  the  professor,  "  if  you  destroy 
that  boy's  book,  I'll  never  do  another  odd  job  for  you  as  long 
as  ever  I  live." 

"Whist!  professor,"  whispered  Ishmael.  "You  don't  know 
my  Aunt  Hannah  as  well  as  I  do.  Her  bark  is  a  deal  worse 
than  her  bite!  If  you  only  knew  how  many  times  she  has 
threatened  to  '  shake  the  life  out  of '  me,  and  to  '  be  the  death 
of '  me,  and  to  *  flay '  me  '  alive,'  you  woiild  know  the  value  of  -4 

her  words." 

"Well,  young  Ishmael,  you  are  the  best  judge  of  that  mat- 
ter, at  least.  And  now  are  you  ready  ?  For,  indeed,  we  haven't 
any  more  time  to  spare.  We  ought  to  have  been  at  the  Hall 
before  this." 

"Why,  professor,  I  have  been  ready  and  waiting  for  the 
'last  ten  minutes." 

"Come  along,  then.     And  now,  Miss  Hannah,  you  take  a 


230  ishmael;  or,  itt  the  depths. 

vell-wisTier's  advice  and  don't  scold  young  Ishmael  any  more 
about  last  night's  adventur'.  He  has  done  a  brave  act,  and  he 
has  saved  the  commodore's  sons  without  coming  to  any  harm 
by  it.  And,  if  he  hasn't  made  his  everlasting  f  ortun',  he  has 
done  himself  a  great  deal  of  credit  and  made  some  very  power- 
ful friends.  And  that  I  tell  you !  You  wait  and  see ! "  said 
the  professor,  as  he  left  the  hut,  followed  by  Ishmael. 

The  morning  was  clear  and  bright  after  the  rain.  As  they 
emerged  into  the  open  air  Ishmael  naturally  raised  his  eyes 
and  threw  a  glance  across  the  valley  to  Brudenell  Heights.  The 
main  building  was  standing  intact,  though  darkened;  and  a 
smoke,  small  in  volume  but  dense  black  in  hue,  was  rising  from 
the  ruins  of  the  burnt  wing. 

Ishmael  had  only  time  to  observe  this  before  they  descended 
the  narrow  path  that  led  through  the  wooded  valley.  They 
walked  on  in  perfect  silence  until  the  professor,  noticing  the 
unusual  taciturnity  of  his  companion,  said: 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  young  Ishmael  ?  Tou  haven't 
opened  your  mouth  since  we  left  the  hut." 

"  Oh,  professor,  I  am  thinking  of  Aunt  Hannah.  It  is 
awful  to  hear  her  rail  about  the  great  heroes  as  she  does.  It 
is  flat  blasphemy,"  replied  the  boy  solemnly. 

"  Hum,  ha,  well,  but  you  see,  young  Ishmael,  though  I 
wouldn't  like  to  say  one  word  to  dampen  your  enthusiasm  for 
great  heroism,  yet  the  truth  is  the  truth;  and  that  compels  me 
to  say  that  you  do  fall  down  and  worship  these  same  said 
teroes  a  little  too  superstitiously.  Why,  law,  my  boy,  there 
wasn't  one  of  them,  at  tAvelve  years  of  age,  had  any  more  cour- 
age or  wisdom  than  you  have — even  if  as  much." 

"  Oh,  professor,  don't  say  that — don't !  it  is  almost  as  bad 
as  anything  Aunt  Hannah  says  of  them.  Don't  go  to  compare 
their  great  boyhood  with  mine.  History  tells  what  they  were, 
and  I  know  myself  what  I  am." 

"  I  doubt  if  you  do,  young  Ishmael." 

"  Yes !  for  I  know  that  I  haven't  even  so  much  as  the  courage 
that  you  think  I  have ;  for,  do  you  know,  professor,  when  I  was 
in  that  burning  house  I  was  frightened  when  I  saw  the  red 
smoke  rolling  into  the  passage  and  heard  the  fire  roaring  so 
near  me?  And  once — I  am  ashamed  to  own  it,  but  I  will,  be- 
cause I  know  George  Washington  always  owned  his  faults  when 
he  was  a  boy — once,  I  say,  I  was  te«Ji)ted  to  run  away  and  leave 
the  boys  to  their  fate." 


ishmael's  first  step  Oj^  the  laddee.       231 

"  But  you  didn't  do  it,  my  lad.  And  you  were  not  the  less 
courageous  because  you  knew  the  danger  that  you  freely  met. 
You  are  brave,  Islrmael,  and  as  good  and  wise  as  you  are  brave." 

"  Oh,  professor,  I  know  you  believe  so,  else  you  wouldn't  say 
it;  but  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  if  I  really  were  good  I 
shouldn't  vex  Aunt  Hannah  as  often  as  I  do." 

"  Humph !  "  said  the  professor. 

"  And  then  if  I  were  wise,  I  would  always  know  right  from 
wrong." 

"And  don't  you?" 

"  'No,  professor ;  because  last  night  when  I  ran  into  the  burn- 
ing house  to  save  the  boys  I  thought  I  was  doing  right;  and 
when  the  ladies  so  kindly  thanked  me,  I  felt  sure  I  had  done 
right;  but  this  morning,  when  Aunt  Hannah  scolded  me,  I 
doubted." 

"  My  boy,  listen  to  the  oracles  of  experience.  Do  what  your 
own  conscience  assures  you  to  be  right,  and  never  mind  what 
others  think  or  say.  I,  who  have  been  your  guide  up  to  this 
time,  can  be  so  no  longer.  I  can  scarcely  follow  you  at  a  dis- 
tance, much  less  lead  you.  A  higher  hand  than  Old  Morris' 
shall  take  you  on.  But  here  we  are  now  at  the  Hall,"  said  the 
professor,  as  he  opened  the  gates  to  admit  himself  and  his  com- 
panion. 

They  passed  up  the  circular  drive  leading  to  the  front  of  the 
house,  paused  a  few  minutes  to  gaze  upon  the  ruins  of  the 
burnt  wing,  of  which  nothing  was  now  left  but  a  shell  of  brick 
walls  and  a  cellar  of  smoking  cinders,  and  then  they  entered 
the  house  by  the  servant's  door. 

"  Mr.  Middleton  and  the  Commodore  are  in  the  library,  and 
you  are  to  take  the  boy  in  there,"  said  Grainger,  who  was 
superintending  the  clearing  away  of  the  ruins. 

"  Come  along,  young  Ishmael !  "  said  the  professor,  and  as 
he  knew  the  way  of  the  house  quite  as  well  as  the  oldest  servant 
in  it,  he  passed  straight  on  to  the  door  of  the  library  and 
knocked. 

"  Come  in,"  said  the  voice  of  Mr.  Middleton. 

And  the  professor,  followed  by  Ishmael,  entered  the  library. 

It  was  a  handsome  room,  with  the  walls  lined  with  book- 
cases; the  windows  draped  with  crimson  curtains;  the  floor 
covered  with  a  rich  carpet ;  a  cheerful  fire  burning  in  the  grate ; 
and  a  marble-top  table  in  the  center  of  the  room,  at  which  was 
placed  two  crimson  velvet  armchairs  occupied  by  two  gentle- 


232  isHMAEL ;  OR,  m  the  depths. 

men — namely,  Mr.  Middleton  and  Commodore  Burghe.  The 
latter  was  a  fine,  tall,  stout  jolly  old  sailor,  with  a  very  round 
waist,  a  very  red  face,  and  a  very  white  head,  who,  as  soon  as 
ever  he  saw  Ishmael  enter,  got  up  and  held  out  his  broad  hand, 
saying : 

"  This  is  the  boy,  is  it  ?  Come  here,  my  brave  little  lad,  and 
let  us  take  a  look  at  you ! " 

Ishmael  took  off  his  hat,  advanced  and  stood  before  the  com- 
modore. 

"  A  delicate  little  slip  of  a  fellow  to  show  such  spirit ! "  said 
the  old  sailor,  laying  his  hand  on  the  flaxen  hair  of  the  boy 
and  passing  his  eyes  down  from  Ishmael's  broad  forehead  and 
thin  cheeks  to  his  slender  figure.  "  Never  do  for  the  army  or 
navy,  sir!  be  rejected  by  both  upon  account  of  physical  inca- 
pacity, sir.    Eh  ?  "  he  continued,  appealing  to  Mr.  Middleton. 

"  The  boy  is  certainly  very  delicate  at  present ;  but  that 
may  be  the  fault  of  his  manner  of  living;  under  better  regimen 
he  may  outgrow  his  fragility,"  said  Mr.  Middleton. 

"  Yes,  yes,  so  he  may ;  but  now  as  I  look  at  him,  I  wonder 
where  the  deuce  the  little  fellow  got  his  pluck  from!  Where 
did  you,  my  little  man,  eh?"  inquired  the  old  sailor,  turning 
bluffly  to  Ishmael. 

"  Indeed  I  don't  know,  sir ;  unless  it  was  from  George  Wash- 
ington  and "      Ishmael   was   going   on    to    enumerate    his 

model  heroes,  but  the  commodore,  who  had  not  stopped  to  hear 
the  reply,  turned  to  Mr.  Middleton  again  and  said : 

"  One  is  accustomed  to  associate  great  courage  with  great 
""size,  weight,  strength,  and  so  forth ! "  And  he  drew  up  his  own 
magnificent  form  with  conscious  pride. 

"  Indeed,  I  do  not  know  why  we  should,  then,  when  all  nature 
and  all  history  contradicts  the  notion!  Nature  shows  us  that 
the  lion  is  braver  than  the  elephant,  and  history  informs  us 
that  all  the  great  generals  of  the  world  have  been  little 
men " 

"  And  experience  teaches  us  that  schoolmasters  are  pedants !  '* 
said  the  old  man,  half  vexed,  half  laughing;  "but  that  is  not 
the  question.  The  question  is  how  are  we  to  reward  this  brave 
little  fellow?" 

"  If  you  please,  sir,  I  do  not  want  any  reward,"  said  Ishmael 
modestly. 

"  Oh,  yes.  yes,  yes ;  I  know  all  about  that  I  Your  friend,  Mr. 
Middleton,  has  just  been  telling  me  some  of  your  antecedents—* 


ishmael's  first  step  on  the  ladder.      233 

Jiow  you  fought  my  two  young  scapegraces  in  defense  of  his 
fruit  baskets.  Wish  you  had  been  strong  enough  to  have  given 
them  a  good  thrashing.  And  about  your  finding  the  pocketbook, 
and  forbearing  to  borrow  a  dollar  from  it,  though  sorely 
tempted  by  want.  And  then  about  your  refusing  any  re- 
ward for  being  simply  honest.  You  see  I  know  all  about  you. 
So  I  am  not  going  to  offer  you  money  for  risking  your  life  to 
save  my  boys.  But  I  am  going  to  give  you  a  start  in  the  world, 
if  I  can.    Come,  now,  how  shall  I  do  it  ? " 

Ishmael  hesitated,  looked  down  and  blushed. 

"  Would  you  like  to  go  to  sea  and  be  a  sailor,  eh  ?  " 

*'  ISTo,  sir,  thank  you." 

"Like  to  go  for  a  soldier,  eh?  You  might  be  a  drummer- 
boy,  you  know." 

"No,  thank  you,  sir." 

"ISTeither  sailor  nor  soldier;  that's  queer,  too!  I  thought 
all  lads  longed  to  be  one  or  the  other !     Why  don't  you,  eh  ? " 

"  I  would  not  like  to  leave  my  Aunt  Hannah,  sir ;  she  has  no 
one  but  me." 

"  What  the  deuce  would  you  like,  then  ? "  testily  demanded 
the  old  sailor. 

"  If  you  please,  sir,  nothing ;  do  not  trouble  yourself." 

"  But  you  saved  the  life  of  my  boys,  you  proud  little  rascal ! 
and  do  you  suppose  I  am  going  to  let  that  pass  unrepaid  ? " 

"  Sir,  I  am  glad  the  young  gentlemen  are  safe;  that  is 
enough  for  me." 

"  But  I'll  be  shot  if  it  is  enough  for  me ! " 

"  Commodore  Burghe,  sir,  will  you  allow  me  to  suggest 
something  ? "  said  the  professor,  coming  forward,  hat  in  hand. 

"  And  who  the  deuce  are  you  ?  Oh,  I  see !  the  artist-in- 
general  to  the  country  side !  Well,  what  do  you  suggest  ? " 
laughed  the  old  man. 

"  If  I  might  be  so  bold,  sir,  it  would  be  to  send  young  Ish- 
mael to  school." 

"  Send  him  to  school !  Ha,  ha,  ha !  ho,  ho,  ho !  why,  he'd 
like  that  least  of  anything  else!  wliy,  he'd  consider  that  the 
most  ungrateful  of  all  returns  to  make  for  his  services!  Boys 
are  sent  to  school  for  punishment,  not  for  reward !  "  laughed 
the  commodore. 

"  Young  Ishmael  wouldn't  think  it  a  punishment,  sir,"  mildly 
suggested  the  professor. 

"I  tell  you  he  wouldn't  go,  my  friend!  punishment  or  no 


234  isioiael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

punishment!  Why,  I  can  scarcely  make  my  own  fellows  go! 
Bosh!  I  know  boys;  school  is  their  bugbear." 

"  But,  under  correction,  sir,  permit  me  to  say  I  don't  think 
you  know  young  Ishmael." 

"  I  know  he  is  a  boy ;  that  is  enough ! " 

*'  But,  sir,  he  is  rather  an  uncommon  boy." 

"In  that  case  he  has  an  uncommon  aversion  to  school." 

**  Sir,  put  it  to  him,  whether  he  would  like  to  go  to  school." 

*'  What's  the  use,  when  I  know  he'd  rather  be  hung  ? " 

*'But,  pray,  give  him  the  choice,  sir,"  respectfully  persisted 
ithe  professor. 

"  What  a  solemn,  impertinent  jackanapes  you  are,  to  be 
sure,  Morris !  But  I  will  '  put  it  to  him,'  as  you  call  it !  Here, 
you  young  fire-eater,  come  here  to  me." 

The  boy,  who  had  modestly  withdrawn  into  the  background, 
now  came  forward. 

"  Stand  up  before  me ;  hold  up  your  head ;  look  me  in  the 
face !  'Now,  then,  answer  me  truly,  and  don't  be  afraid.  Would 
you  like  to  go  to  school,  eh  ? " 

Ishmael  did  not  speak,  but  the  moonlight  radiance  of  his 
pale  beaming  face  answered  for  him. 

"  Have  you  no  tongue,  eh  ? "  bluffly  demanded  the  old  sailor. 

"  If  you  please,  sir,  I  should  like  to  go  to  school  more  than 
anything  in  the  world,  if  I  was  rich  enough  to  pay  for  it," 

"  Humph !  what  do  you  think  of  that,  Middleton,  eh  ?  what 
do  you  think  of  that?  A  boy  saying  that  he  would  like  to  go 
to  school !  Did  you  ever  hear  of  such  a  thing  in  your  life  ? 
Is  the  young  rascal  humbugging  us,  do  you  think  ? "  said  the 
commodore,  turning  to  his  friend. 

"  Not  in  the  least,  sir ;  he  is  perfectly  sincere.  I  am  sure  of 
it,  from  what  I  have  seen  of  him  myself.  And  look  at  him, 
sir!  he  is  a  boy  of  talent;  and  if  you  wish  to  reward  him,  you 
could  not  do  so  in  a  more  effectual  way  than  by  giving  him 
some  education,"  said  Mr.  Middleton. 

"  But  what  could  a  boy  of  his  humble  lot  do  with  an  education 
if  he  had  it  ?  "  inquired  the  commodore. 

"  Ah !  that  I  cannot  tell,  as  it  would  depend  greatly  upon 
future  circumstances;  but  this  we  know,  that  the  education  he 
desires  cannot  do  him  any  harm,  and  may  do  him  good." 

"Yes!  well,  then,  to  school  he  shall  go.  Where  shall  I  send 
him  ?  "   inquired  the   old  sailor. 

"  Here ;  I  would  willingly  take  him." 


ishmael's  fiest  step  ox  the  ladder.      £35 

"You!  you're  joking!  Why,  you  have  one  of  the  most  select 
schools  in  the  State." 

"  And  this  boy  would  soon  be  an  honor  to  it !  In  a  word, 
commodore,  I  would  offer  to  take  him  freely  myself,  but  that 
I  know  the  independent  spirit  of  the  young  fellow  could  not 
rest  under  such  an  obligation.  You,  however,  are  his  debtor 
to  a  larger  amount  than  you  can  ever  repay.  From  you,  there- 
fore, even  he  cannot  refuse  to  accept  an  education." 

"  But  your  patrons,  my  dear  sir,  may  object  to  the  asso- 
ciation for  their  sons,"  said  the  commodore,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Do  you  object  ?  " 

"  Not  I  indeed !     I  like  the  little  fellow  too  well." 

"  Very  well,  then,  if  anyone  else  objects  to  their  sons  keeping 
icompany  with  Ishmael  Worth,  they  shall  be  at  liberty  to  do  so." 

"  Humph !  but  suppose  they  remove  their  sons  from  the 
school  ?  what  then,  eh  ? "  demanded  the  commodore. 

"  They  shall  be  free  from  any  reproach  from  me.  The 
liberty  I  claim  for  myself  I  also  allow  others.  I  interfere  with 
no  man's  freedom  of  action,  and  suffer  no  man  to  interfere 
with  mine,"  returned  Middleton. 

"  Quite  right !  Then  it  is  settled  the  boy  attends  the  school. 
Where  are  you,  you  young  fire-bravo !  you  young  thunderbolt  of 
•war !  Come  forward,  and  let  us  have  a  word  with  you !  '* 
shouted  the  commodore. 

Ishmael,  who  had  again  retreated  behind  the  shelter  of  the 
professor's  stout  form,  now  came  forward,  cap  in  hand,  and 
stood  blushing  before  the  old  sailor. 

"Well,  you  are  to  be  'cursed  with  a  granted  prayer,'  you 
young  Don  Quixote.  You  are  to  come  here  to  school,  and  I  am 
to  foot  the  bills.  You  are  to  come  next  Monday,  which  being- 
the  first  of  April  and  all-fool's-day,  I  consider  an  appropriate 
time  for  beginning.  You  are  to  tilt  with  certain  giants,  called 
Grammar,  Geography,  and  History.  And  if  you  succeed  with 
them,  you  are  to  combat  certain  dragons  and  griffins,  named 
Virgil,  Euclid,  and  so  forth.  And  if  you  conquer  them,  you 
may  eventually  rise  above  your  present  humble  sphere,  and 
fserhaps  become  a  parish  clerk  or  a  constable — ^who  knows? 
Make  good  use  of  your  opportunities,  my  lad!  Pursue  the 
path  of  learning,  and  there  is  no  knowing  where  it  may  carry 
you.  '  Big  streams  from  little  fountains  flow.  Great  oaks  from 
little  acorns  grow ;'  and  so  forth.  Good-by !  and  God  bless  you^ 
my  lad,"  said  the  commodore,  rising  to  take  his  leave. 


236  ISHilAEL  ;    OE,  IN   TUB   DEPTHS. 

Ishmael  bowed  veiy  low,  and  attempted  to  thank  his  friend, 
but  tears  arose  to  his  eyes,  and  swelling  emotion  choked  his 
voice;  and  before  he  could  speak,  the  commodore  walked  up  to 
Mr.   Middleton,   and  said: 

"  I  hope  your  favor  to  this  lad  will  not  seriously  affect  youp 
school;  but  we  will  talk  further  of  the  matter  on  some  future 
occasion.  I  have  an  engagement  this  morning.  Good-by!  Oh, 
by  the  way — I  had  nearly  forgotten :  Mervin,  and  Turner,  and 
the  other  old  boys  are  coming  down  to  my  place  for  an  oyster 
roast  on  Thursday  night.  I  won't  ask  you  if  you  will  come. 
I  say  to  you  that  you  must  do  so;  and  I  will  not  stop  to  hear 
any  denial.  Good-by ! "  and  the  commodore  shook  Mr.  Mid- 
dleton's  hand  and  departed. 

Ishmael  stood  the  very  picture  of  perplexity,  until  Mr.  Mid- 
dleton addressed  him. 

"  Come  here,  my  brave  little  lad.  You  are  to  do  as  the  com- 
modore has  directed  you,  and  present  yourself  here  on  Monday 
nest.     Do  you  understand  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  understand  very  well ;  but " 

"  But — what,  my  lad  ?     Wouldn't  you  like  to  come  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir !  more  than  anything  in  the  world.  I  would  like 
it,  but " 

"What,  my  boy?" 

"  It  would  be  taking  something  for  nothing ;  and  I  do  not 
like  to  do  that,  sir." 

"  You  are  mistaken,  Ishmael.  It  would  be  taking  what  you 
have  a  right  to  take.  It  would  be  taking  what  you  have  earned 
a  hundred-fold.  You  risked  your  life  to  save  Commodore 
Burghe's  two  sons,  and  you  did  save  them." 

"  Sir,  that  was  only  my  duty." 

"  Then  it  is  equally  the  commodore's  duty  to  do  all  that  he 
can  for  you.    And  it  is  also  your  duty  to  accept  his  offers." 

"  Do  you  look  at  it  in  that  light,  sir  ?  " 

"  Certainly  I  do." 

"And — do  you  think  John  Hancock  and  Patrick  Henry  would 
have  looked  at  it  in  that  light?" 

Mr.  Middleton  laughed.  No  one  could  have  helped  laughing 
at  the  solemn,  little,  pale  visage  of  Ishmael,  as  he  gravely  put 
this  question. 

"  Why,  assuredly,  my  boy.  Every  hero  and  martyr  in  sacred 
or  profane  history  would  view  the  matter  as  the  commodore 
and  myself  do." 


ISmiAEL's    FIEST    STEP    OX    THE    LADDEB.         237 

"  Oh,  then,  sir,  I  am  so  glad !  and  indeed,  indeed,  I  will  do 
my  very  best  to  profit  by  my  opportunities,  and  to  show  my 
thankfulness  to  the  commodore  and  you,"  said  Ishmael  fer- 
vently. 

"  Quite  right.  I  am  sure  you  will.  And  now,  my  boy,  you 
may  retire,"  said  Mr.  iliddleton,  kindly  giving  Ishmael  his 
hand. 

Our  lad  bowed  deeply  and  turned  towards  the  professor,  who, 
with  a  sweeping  obeisance  to  all  the  literary  shelves,  left  the 
room. 

"  Your  everlastin'  f ortin's  made,  young  Ishmael !  You  will 
learn  the  classmatics,  and  all  the  fijie  arts;  and  it  depends  ou 
yourself  alone,  whether  you  do  not  rise  to  be  a  sexton  or  a 
clerk !  "  said  the  professor,  as  they  went  out  into  the  lawn. 

They  went  around  to  the  smoking  ruins  of  the  burnt  wing, 
where  all  the  field  negroes  were  collected  under  the  superin- 
tendence of  the  overseer,  Grainger,  and  engaged  in  clearing 
away  the  rubbish. 

"  I  have  a  hundred  and  fifty  things  to  do,"  said  the  professor; 
"but,  still,  if  my  assistance  is  required  here  it  must  be  given. 
Do  you  want  my  help,  Mr.  Grainger  ? " 

"  No,  Morris,  not  until  the  rubbish  is  cleared  away.  Then, 
I  think,  we  shall  want  you  to  put  down  a  temporary  covering 
to  keep  the  cellar  from  filling  with  rain  until  the  builder 
comes,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Come  along,  then,  young  Ishmael ;  I  guess  I  will  not  linger 
here  any  longer;  and  as  for  going  over  to  Mr.  Martindale's,  to 
begin  to  dig  his  well  to-day,  it  is  too  late  to  think  of  such  a 
thing.  So  I  will  just  walk  over  home  with  you,  to  see  how 
Hannah  receives  your  good  news,"  said  the  professor,  leading 
the  way  rapidly  down  the  narrow  path  through  the  wooded 
valley. 

When  they  reached  the  hut  they  found  Hannah  sitting  in 
her  chair  before  the  fire,  crying. 

In  a  moment  Ishmael's  thin  arm  was  aroTind  her  neck  and 
his  gentle  voice  in  her  ear,  inquiring: 

"What  is  the  matter?" 

"  Starvation  is  the  matter,  my  child !  I  cannot  weave.  It 
hurts  my  arms  too  much.  What  we  are  to  do  for  bread  I  can- 
not tell !  for  of  course  the  poor  little  dollar  a  week  that  you 
earn  is  not  going  to  support  us,"  said  Hannah,  sobbing. 

Ishmael    looked    distressed;    the    professor    dismayed.     The 


238      iskmael;  ov.,  i:^  the  depths. 

same  thought  occurred  to  both — Hannah  unable  to  work,  Ish- 
mael's  "  poor  little  dollar  a  week  "  would  not  support  them ;  but 
yet  neither  could  it  be  dispensed  with,  since  it  would  be  the 
only  thing  to  keep  them  both  from  famine,  and  since  this  was 
the  case,  Ishmael  would  be  obliged  to  continue  to  earn  that 
small  stipend,  and  to  do  so  he  must  give  up  all  hopes  of  going 
to  school — at  least  for  the  present,  perhaps  forever.  It  was 
a  bitter  disappointment,  but  when  was  the  boy  ever  knovpn  to 
hesitate  between  right  and  wrong?  He  swallowed  his  ris- 
ing tears  and  kissed  his  weeping  relative  saying: 

"Never  mind.  Aunt  Hannah!  Don't  cry;  maybe  if  I  work 
hard  I  may  be  able  to  earn  more." 

"  Yes ;  times  is  brisk ;  I  dare  say,  young  Ishmael  will  be  able 
to  bring  you  as  much  as  two  dollars  a  week  for  a  while," 
chimed  in  the  professor. 

Hannah  dropped  her  coarse  handkerchief  and  lifted  her 
"weeping  face  to  ask: 

"  What  did  they  want  with  you  up  at  the  Hall,  my  dear  ? " 

"  The  commodore  wanted  to  send  me  to  school.  Aunt  Han- 
nah; but  it  don't  matter,"  said  Ishmael  firmly. 

Hannah  sighed. 

And  the  professor,  knowing  now  that  he  should  have  no 
pleasure  in  seeing  Hannah's  delight  in  her  nephew's  advance- 
ment, since  the  school  plan  was  nipped  in  the  bud,  took  up  his 
hat  to  depart. 

"  Well,  young  Ishmael,  I  shall  start  for  Mr.  Martindale's 
to-morrow,  to  dig  that  well.  I  shall  have  a  plenty  for  you  to 
do,  so  you  must  be  at  my  house  as  usual  at  six  o'clock  in  the 
morning,"  he  said. 

"  Professor,  I  think  I  will  walk  with  you.  I  ought  to  tell 
Mr.  Middleton  at  once.  And  I  shall  have  no  more  time  after 
to-day,"  replied  the  boy  rising. 

They  went  out  together  and  in  silence  retraced  their  steps 
to  Brudenell  Heights.  Both  were  brooding  over  Ishmael's  de- 
feated hopes  and  over  that  strange  fatality  in  the  lot  of  the  poor 
that  makes  them  miss  great  fortunes  for  the  lack  of  small 
means. 

The  professor  parted  with  his  companion  at  his  own  cottage 
door.  But  Ishmael,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  walked 
slowly  and  thoughtfully  on  towards  Brudenell  Heights. 

To  have  the  cup  of  happiness  dashed  to  the  ground  the  very 
moment  it  was  raised  to  his  lips!    It  was  a  cruel  disappoint- 


ishmael's  first  step  ox  the  ladder.      239 

ment.  He  could  not  resign  himself  to  it.  All  his  nature  was 
in  arms  to  resist  it.  His  mind  was  laboring  with  the  means 
to  reconcile  his  duty  and  his  desire.  His  intense  longing  to  go 
to  school,  his  burning  thirst  for  knowledge,  the  eagerness  of 
his  hungry  and  restless  intellect  for  food  and  action,  can 
scarcely  be  appreciated  by  less  gifted  beings.  While  ear- 
nestly searching  for  the  way  by  which  he  might  supply  Han- 
nah with  the  means  of  living,  without  sacrificing  his  hopes  of 
school,  he  suddenly  hit  upon  a  plan.  He  quickened  his  foot- 
steps to  put  it  into  instant  execution.  He  arrived  at  Bru- 
denell  Hall  and  asked  to  see  Mrs.  Middleton.  A  servant  took 
up  his  petition  and  soon  returned  to  conduct  him  to  that 
lady's  presence.  They  went  up  two  flights  of  stairs,  when  the 
man,  turning  to  the  left,  opened  a  door,  and  admitted  the  boy 
to  the  bed-chamber  of  Mrs.  Middleton. 

The  lady,  wrapped  in  a  dressing  gown  and  shawl,  reclined  in 
an  arm-chair  in  the  chimney  corner. 

"  Come  here,  my  dear,"  she  said,  in  a  sweet  voice.  And  when 
Ishmael  had  advanced  and  made  his  bow,  she  took  his  hand 
kindly  and  said :  "  You  are  the  only  visitor  whom  I  would  have 
received  to-day,  for  I  have  taken  a  very  bad  cold  from  last 
night's  exposure,  my  dear;  but  you  I  could  not  refuse.  J^oW 
sit  down  in  that  chair  opposite  me,  and  tell  me  what  I  can  do 
for  you.    I  hear  you  are  coming  to  school  here ;  I  am  glad  of  it." 

"  I  was,  ma'am ;  but  I  do  not  know  that  I  am,"  replied  the  boy. 

"Why,  how  is  that?" 

*'I  hope  you  won't  be  displeased  with  me,  ma'am " 

"  Certainly  not,  my  boy.    What  is  it  that  you  wish  to  say  ?  " 

"  Well,  ma'am,  my  Aunt  Hannah  cannot  weave  now,  be- 
cause her  wrists  are  crippled  with  rheumatism;  and,  as  she 
cannot  earn  any  money  in  that  way,  I  shall  be  obliged  to  give 
np  school — unless "    Ishmael  hesitated. 

"  Unless  what,  my  boy  ?  " 

"  Unless  she  can  get  some  work  that  she  can  do.  She  can 
knit  and  sew  very  nicely,  and  I  thought  maybe,  ma'am — I  hope 
you  won't  be  offended " 

"  Certainly  not." 

"I  thought,  then,  maybe  you  might  have  some  sewing  or 
some  knitting  to  put  out." 

"  Why,  Ishmael,  I  have  been  looking  in  vain  for  a  seamstress 
for  the  last  three  or  four  weeks.  And  I  thought  I  really  should 
have  ts  go  to  the  trouble  and  expense  of  sending  to  Baltimore 


24:0  ishmael:  or,  in  the  depthsj 

or  Washington  for  one;  for  all  our  spring  and  summer  sewing 
is  yet  to  do.  I  am  sure  I  could  keep  one  woman  in  fine  needle- 
work all  the  year  round." 

"  Oh,  ma'am,  how  glad  I  would  be  if  Aunt  Hannah  would 
suit  you." 

"  I  can  easily  tell  that.     Does  she  make  your  clothes  ? " 

"  All  of  them,  ma'am,  and  her  own  too." 

"  Come  here,  then,  and  let  me  look  at  her  sewing.'' 

Ishmael  went  to  the  lady,  who  took  his  arm  and  carefully 
examined  the  stitching  of  his  jacket  and  shirt  sleeve. 

"  She  sews  beautifully.  That  will  do,  my  boy.  Ring  that 
bell  for  me." 

Ishmael  obeyed  and  a  servant  answered  the  summons. 

"  Jane,"  she  said,  "  hand  m.e  that  roll  of  linen  from  the 
wardrobe." 

The  woman  complied,  and  the  mistress  put  the  bundle  in 
the  hands  of  Ishmael,  saying: 

"  Here,  my  boy :  here  are  a  dozen  shirts  already  cut  out,  with 
the  sewing  cotton,  buttons,  and  so  forth  rolled  up  in  them. 
Take  them  to  your  aunt.  Ask  her  if  she  can  do  them,  and  tell 
her  that  I  pay  a  dollar  apiece." 

"  Oh !  thank  you,  thank  you,  ma'aia !  I  know  Aunt  Hannah 
will  do  them  very  nicely ! "  exclaimed  the  boy  in  delight,  as  he 
made  his  bow  and  his  exit. 

He  ran  home,  leaping  and  jumping  as  he  went. 

He  rushed  into  the  hut  and  threw  the  bundle  on  the  table, 
exclaiming  gleefully: 

"  There,  Aunt  Hannah !  I  have  done  it !  " 

"  Done  what,  you  crazy  fellow  ? "  cried  Hannah,  looking  up 
from  the  frying  pan  in  which  she  was  turning  savory  rashers 
of  bacon  for  their  second  meal. 

"  I  have  got  you — '  an  engagement,'  as  the  professor  calls 
a  big  lot  of  work  to  do.  I've  got  it  for  you,  aunt;  and  I  begin 
to  think  a  body  may  get  any  reasonable  thing  in  this  world  i£ 
they  will  only  try  hard  enough  for  it ! "  exclaimed  Ishmael. 

Ha.nnah  sat  down,  her  frying  pan  and  approached  the  table, 
saying : 

"  Will  you  try  to  be  sensible  now,  Ishmael ;  and  tell  me 
where  this  bundle  of  linen  came  from  ? " 

Ishmael  grew  sober  in  an  instant,  and  made  a  very  clear 
statement  of  his  afternoon's  errand,  and  its  success,  ending 
as  he  had  begun,  by  saying:  "I  do  believe  in  my  soul,  Aunt 


ishmael's  first  step  on  the  ladder.      241 

Hannah,  that  anybody  can  get  any  reasonable  thing  in  the 
"world  they  want,  if  they  only  try  hard  enough  for  it !  And 
now,  dear  Aunt  Hannah,  I  would  not  be  so  selfish  as  to  go  to 
school  and  leave  all  the  burden  of  getting  a  living  upon  your 
shoulders,  if  I  did  not  know  that  it  would  be  better  even  for 
you  by-and-by !  For  if  I  go  to  school  and  get  some  little  edu- 
cation, I  shall  be  able  to  work  at  something  better  than  odd 
jobbing.  The  professor  and  Mr.  Middleton,  and  even  the  com- 
modore himself,  thinks  that  if  I  persevere^,  I  may  come  to  be 
county  constable,  or  parish  clerk,  or  schoolmaster,  or  something 
of  that  sort;  and  if  I  do,  you  know,  Aunt  Hannah,  we  can  live 
in  a  house  with  three  or  four  rooms,  and  I  can  keep  you  in 
splendor !  So  you  won't  think  your  boy  selfish  in  wanting  to  go 
to  school,  will  you,  Aunt  Hannah  ? " 

"  No,  my  darling,  no.  I  love  you  dearly,  my  Ishmael.  Only 
my  temper  is  tried  when  you  run  your  precious  head  into  the 
fire,  as  you  did  last  night." 

"  But,  Aunt  Hannah,  Israel  Putnam,  or  Francis " 

"  Now,  now,  Ishmael — don't,  dear,  don't !  If  you  did  but 
know  how  I  hate  the  sound  of  those  old  dead  and  gone  men's 
names,  you  wouldn't  be  foreverlasting  dinging  of  them  into 
my  ears !  "  said  Hannah  nervously. 

"  Well,  Aunt  Hannah — I'll  try  to  remember  not  to  name 
them  to  you  again.  But  for  all  that  I  must  follow  where  they 
lead  me !  "  said  this  young  aspirant  and  unconscious  prophet. 
For  I  have  elsewhere  said,  what  I  now  with  emphasis  reijeat, 
that  "  aspirations  are  prophecies,"  which  it  requires  only  faith 
to  fulfill. 

Hannah  made  no  reply.  She  was  busy  setting  the  table  for 
the  supper,  which  the  aunt  and  nephew  presently  enjoyed 
with  the  appreciation  only  to  be  felt  by  those  who  seldom  sit 
down  to  a  satisfactory  meal. 

When  it  was  over,  and  the  table  was  cleared,  Hannah,  who 
never  lost  time,  took  the  bundle  of  linen,  unrolled  it,  sat  down, 
and  commenced  sewing. 

Ishmael  with  his  book  of  heroes   sat  opposite  to  her. 

The  plain  deal  table,  scrubbed  white  as  cream,  stood  between 
them,  lighted  by  one  tallow  candle. 

"  Aunt  Hannah,"  said  the  boy,  as  he  watched  her  arranging 
her  work,  "  is  that  easier  than  weaving  ?  " 

"  Very  much  easier,  Ishmael."  v 

"  And  is  it  as  profitable  to  you  ? " 


242  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  m   THE   DEPTHS. 

"About  twice  as  profitable,  my  dear;  so,  if  the  lady  really 
can  keep  me  in  work  all  the  year  round,  there  will  be  no  need 
of  your  poor  little  wages,  earned  by  your  hard  labor,"  answered 
Hannah. 

"  Oh,  I  didn't  think  it  hard  at  all,  you  see,  because  Israel 

Put I  beg  your  pardon,  Aunt  Hannah — I  won't  forget 

again,"  said  the  boy,  correcting  himself  in  time,  and  returning 
to  the  silent  reading  of  his  book. 

Some  time  after  he  closed  his  book,  and  looked  up. 

"  Aunt  Hannah !  " 

"Well,  Ishmael?" 

"  You  often  talk  to  me  of  my  dear  mother  in  heaven,  but 
never  of  my  father.     "Who  was  my  father,  Aimt  Hannah?" 

Por  all  answer  Hannah  arose  and  boxed  his  ears. 


CHAPTEE  XXVni. 

ISHMAEL  AND  CLAUDIA. 

I  saw  two  children  intertwine 

Their  arms  about  each  other, 
Like  the  lithe  tendrils  of  the  vine 

Aroniid  its  nearest  brother; 
And  ever  and.  auon, 
As  gayly  they  ran  on, 
Each  looked  into  the  other's  face, 
Anticipating  an  embrace. 

— Richard  Monckton  Milnes. 

Punctually  at  nine  o'clock  on  Monday  morning  Ishmael 
Worth  rendered  himself  at  Brudenell  Hall.  Mr.  Middleton's 
school  was  just  such  a  one  as  can  seldom,  if  ever,  be  met  with 
out  of  the  Southern  States.  Mr.  Middleton  had  been  a  pro- 
fessor of  languages  in  one  of  the  Southern  universities;  and 
by  his  salary  had  supported  and  educated  a  large  family  of 
sons  and  daughters  until  the  death  of  a  distant  relative  en- 
riched him  with  the  inheritance  of  a  large  funded  property. 

He  immediately  resigned  his  position  in  the  university, 
and — as  he  did  not  wish  to  commit  himself  hastily  to  a  fixed 
abode  in  any  particular  neighborhood  by  the  purchase  of  an 
estate — ^he  leased  the  vv^hole  ready-made  establishment  at  Bru- 
denell Hall,  all  furnished  and  officered  as  it  was.  There  he 
conveyed  his  wife  and  ten  children — that  is,  five  girls  and  five 
boys,  ranging  from  the  age  of  one  year  up  to  fifteen  years  of 


ISHMAEL    AND    CLAUDIA.  243 

age.  Added  to  these  was  the  motherless  daughter  of  his  de- 
ceased sister,  Beatrice  Merlin,  who  had  been  the  wife  of  the 
chief-justice  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  State. 

Claudia  Merlin  had  been  confided  to  the  care  of  her  uncle 
find  aunt  in  preference  to  being  sent  to  a  boarding  school  dur- 
ing her  father's  absence  on  oiBcial  duty  at  the  capital. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Middleton  had  found,  on  coming  to  Brudenell 
Hall,  that  there  was  no  proper  school  in  the  neighborhood  to 
which  they  could  send  their  sons  and  daughters.  They  had 
besides  a  strong  prejudice  in  favor  of  educating  their  children 
under  their  own  eyes.  Mr.  Middleton,  in  his  capacity  of  pro- 
fessor, had  seen  too  much  of  the  temptations  of  college  lifo 
to  be  willing  to  trust  his  boys  too  early  to  its  dangers.  And  as 
for  sending  the  girls  away  from  home,  Mrs.  Middleton  would 
not  hear  of  it  for  an  instant. 

After  grappling  with  the  difficulty  for  a  while,  they  con- 
quered it  by  concluding  to  engage  a  graduate  of  the  university 
as  tutor,  to  ground  young  people  in  what  are  called  the  funda- 
mental parts  of  an  English  education,  together  with  the  clas- 
sics and  mathematics;  and  also  to  employ  an  accomplished 
lady  to  instruct  them  in  music  and  drawing.  This  school  was 
always  under  the  immediate  supervision  of  the  master  and  mis- 
tress of  the  house.  One  or  the  other  was  almost  always  pres- 
ent in  the  schoolroom.  And  even  if  this  had  not  been  so,  the 
strictest  propriety  must  have  been  preserved ;  for  the  governess 
was  a  discreet  woman,  nearly  fifty  years  of  age;  and  the  tutor, 
though  but  twenty-five,  was  the  gravest  of  all  grave  young  men. 

The  classroom  was  arranged  in  a  spare  back  parlor  on  the 
first  floor — a  spacious  apartment  whose  windows  looked  out 
upon  the  near  shrubberies  and  the  distant  woods.  Here  on  the 
Tight  hand  were  seated  the  five  boys  under  their  tutor;  and  on. 
the  left  were  gathered  the  girls  under  their  governess.  But 
when  a  class  was  called  up  for  recitation,  before  the  tutor,  boys 
and  girls  engaged  in  the  same  studies,  and  in  the  same  stage  of 
progress  stood  up  together,  that  their  minds  might  be  stimu- 
lated by  mutual  emulation. 

Often  Mrs.  Middleton  occupied  a  seat  in  an  arm-chair  near 
one  of  the  pleasant  windows  overlooking  the  shrubberies,  and 
employed  herself  with  some  fine  needlework  while  superintend- 
ing the  school.  Sometimes,  also,  Mr.  Middleton  came  in  with 
his  book  or  paper,  and  occasionally,  from  force  of  habit,  he 
would  take  a  classbook  and  hear  a  recitation.    It  was  to  keen 


244  ISHMAEL ;  OE,  m  the  depths. 

Ms  hand  in,  he  said,  lest  some  unexpected  tvirn  of  the  wheel 
of  fortune  should  send  him  back  to  his  old  profession  again. 

Thus,  this  was  in  all  respects  a  family  school. 

But  when  the  neighbors  became  acquainted  with  its  admira- 
ble working,  they  begged  as  a  favor  the  privilege  of  sending 
their  children  as  day  pupils;  and  Mr.  Middleton,  in  his  cordial 
kindness,  agreed  to  receive  the  new  pupils;  but  only  on  condi- 
tion that  their  tuition  fees  should  be  paid  to  augment  the 
salaries  of  the  tutor  and  the  governess,  as  he — Mr.  Middleton — • 
did  not  wish,  and  would  not  receive,  a  profit  from  the  school. 

Among  the  newcomers  were  the  sons  of  Connnodore  Burghe. 
Like  the  other  new  pupils,  they  were  only  day  scholars.  For 
bad  conduct  they  had  once  been  warned  away  from  the  school; 
but  had  been  pardoned  and  received  back  at  the  earnest  en- 
treaty of  their  father. 

Their  presence  at  Brudenell  Hall  on  the  nearly  fatal  night 
of  the  fire  had  been  accidental.  The  night  had  been  stormy, 
and  Mrs.  Middleton  had  insisted  upon  their  remaining. 

These  boys  were  now  regular  attendants  at  the  school,  and 
their  manners  and  morals  were  perceptibly  improving.  They 
now  sat  with  the  Middleton  boys  and  shared  their  studies. 

Into  this  pleasant  family  schoolroom,  on  the  first  Monday  in. 
April,  young  Ishmael  Worth  was  introduced.  His  own  heroic 
conduct  had  won  him  a  place  in  the  most  select  and  exclusive 
little  school  in  the  State. 

Ishmael  was  now  thirteen  years  of  age,  a  tall,  slender  boy, 
with  a  broad  full  forehead,  large  prominent  blue  eyes,  a  straight 
well-shaped  nose,  full,  sweet,  smiling  lips,  thin,  wasted-looking 
cheeks,  a  round  chin  and  fair  complexion.  His  hands  and  feet 
were  small  and  symmetrical,  but  roughened  with  hard  usage. 
He  was  perfectly  clean  and  neat  in  his  appearance.  His  thin, 
pale  face  was  as  delicately  fair  as  any  lady's;  his  flaxen  hair 
was  parted  at  the  left  side  and  brushed  away  from  his  big  fore- 
head; his  coarse  linen  was  as  white  as  snow,  and  his  coarser 
homespun  blue  cloth  jacket  and  trousers  were  spotless;  his 
shoes  were  also  clean. 

Altogether,  IsTora's  son  was  a  pleasing  lad  to  look  upon  as 
he  stood  smilingly  but  modestly,  hat  in  hand,  at  the  school- 
room door,  to  which  he  had  been  brought  by  Jovial. 

The  pupils  were  all  assembled — the  boys  gathered  around 
their  tutor,  on  the  right;  the  girls  hovering  about  their  gover- 
ness on  the  left. 


ISIIMAEL    AND    CLAUDIA.  245 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Middleton  were  both  present,  sitting  near  a 
pleasant  window  tliat  the  mild  spring  morning  had  invited 
them  to  open.  They  were  both  exx^ecting  Ishmael,  and  both 
jirose  to  meet  him. 

Mrs.  Middleton  silently  shook  his  hand. 

Mr.  Middleton  presented  him  to  the  school,  saying : 

"  Yonng  gentlemen,  this  is  your  new  companion,  Master 
Ishmael  Worth,  as  worthy  a  youth  as  it  has  ever  been  my  pleas- 
ure to  know.  I  hope  you  will  all  make  him  welcome  among 
you." 

There  was  an  instant  and  mysterious  putting  together  of 
ieads  and  buzzing  of  voices  among  the  pupils. 

"  Walter,  come  here,"  said  Mr.  Middleton. 

A  youth  of  about  fifteen  years  of  age  arose  and  approached. 

"  Ishmael,  this  is  my  eldest  son,  Walter.  I  hope  you  two  may 
he  good  friends.  Walter,  take  Ishmael  to  a  seat  beside  you; 
and  when  the  recreation  hour  comes,  make  him  well  acquainted 
with  your  companions.  Mind,  Walter,  I  commit  him  to  your 
charge." 

Walter  Middleton  smiled,  shook  hands  with  Ishmael,  and  led 
jhim  away  to  share  his  own  double  desk. 

Mr.  Middleton  then  called  the  school  to  order  and  opened 
the  exercises  with  the  reading  of  the  Scripture  and  prayer. 

This  over,  he  came  to  Ishmael  and  laid  an  elementary  geogra- 
phy before  him,  with  the  first  lesson  marked  out  on  it,  saying : 

"  There,  my  lad ;  commit  this  to  memory  as  soon  as  you  can, 
and  then  take  your  book  up  for  recitation  to  Mr.  Green.  He 
will  hear  you  singly  for  some  time  until  you  overtake  the  first 
class,  which  I  am  sure  you  will  do  very  soon;  it  will  depend 
upon  yourself  how  soon." 

And  with  these  kind  words  Mr.  Middleton  left  the  room. 

How  happy  was  Ishmael !  The  schoolroom  seemed  an  ely- 
eium !  It  is  true  that  this  was  no  ordinary  schoolroom ;  but 
one  of  the  pleasantest  places  of  the  kind  to  be  imagined;  and 
very  different  from  the  small,  dark,  poor  hut.  Ishmael  was 
delighted  with  its  snow-white  walls,  its  polished  oak  floor,  its 
clear  open  windows  with  their  outlook  upon  the  blue  sky  and 
the  green  trees  and  variegated  shrubs.  He  was  pleased  with 
his  shining  mahogany  desk,  with  neat  little  compartments  for 
slate,  books,  pen,  pencils,  ink,  etc.  He  was  in  love  with  his 
new  book  with  its  gayly  colored  maps  and  pictures  and  the  won- 
ders revealed  to  him  in  its  lessons.    He  soon  left  off  reveling 


246      ishmael;  or,  ii^  the  depths. 

in  the  sights  and  sounds  of  the  cheerful  schoolroom  to  devote 
himself  to  his  book.  To  him  study  was  not  a  task,  it  was  an 
all-absorbing  rapture.  His  thirsty  intellect  drank  up  the 
knowledge  in  that  book  as  eagerly  as  ever  parched  lips  quaffed 
cold  water.  He  soon  mastered  the  first  easy  lesson,  and  would 
have  gone  up  immediately  for  recitation,  only  that  Mr.  Green 
was  engaged  with  a  class.  But  Ishmael  could  not  stop ;  he  went 
on  to  the  second  lesson  and  then  to  the  third,  and  had  com- 
mitted the  three  to  memory  before  Mr.  Green  was  disengaged. 
Then  he  went  up  to  recite.  At  the  end  of  the  first  lesson  Mr. 
Green  praised  his  accuracy  and  began  to  mark  the  second. 

"  If  you  please,  sir,  I  have  got  that  into  my  head,  and  alsa 
the  third  one,"  said  Ishmael,  interrupting  him. 

"  What !  do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  have  committed  three 
of  these  lessons  to  memory  ? "  inquired  the  surprised  tutor. 

"  Yes,  sir,  while  I  was  waiting  for  you  to  be  at  leisure." 

"  Extraordinary !  Well,  I  will  see  if  you  can  recite  them," 
said  Mr.  Green,  opening  the  book. 

Ishmael  was  perfect  in  his  recitation. 

All  schoolmasters  delight  in  quick  and  intelligent  pupils; 
but  Mr.  Green  especially  did  so;  for  he  had  a  true  vocation 
for  his  profession.  He  smiled  radiantly  upon  Ishmael  as  he 
asked : 

"  Do  you  think,  now,  you  can  take  three  of  these  ordinary 
lessons  for  one  every  day  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir ;  if  it  would  not  be  too  much  trouble  for  you  to 
liear  me,"  ansAvered  our  boy. 

"  It  will  be  a  real  pleasure ;  I  shall  feel  an  interest  in  see- 
ing how  fast  a  bright  and  willing  lad  like  yourself  can  get  on. 
INow,  then,  put  away  your  geography,  and  bring  me  the  Uni- 
versal History  that  you  will  find  in  your  desk." 

In  joy,  Ishmael  went  back  to  his  seat,  lifted  the  lid  of  his 
desk,  and  found  in  the  inside  a  row  of  books,  a  large  slate,  a 
■copy-book,  pens,  ink,  and  pencils,  all  neatly  arranged. 

"  Am  I  to  use  these  ? "  he  inquired  of  Walter  Middleton. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  they  are  all  yours ;  my  mother  put  them  all  in 
thei-e  for  you  this  morning.  You  will  find  your  name  written 
on  every  one  of  them,"  replied  the  youth. 

What  treasures  Ishmael  had !  He  could  scarcely  believe  in 
his  wealth  and  happiness!  He  selected  the  Universal  His- 
tory, and  took  it  up  to  the  tutor,  who,  in  consideration  of  his 
pupil's  capacity  and  desire,  set  him  a  very  long  lesson. 


ISIIMAEL    AKD    OLAUDIA.  247 

In  an  liour  IsLmael  had  mastered  this  task  also,  and  taken  it 
up  to  his  teacher. 

His  third  book  that  morning  was  Murray's  English  Grammar. 

"  I  do  not  think  I  shall  set  you  a  lesson  of  more  than  the 
ordinary  length  this  time,  Islnnael.  I  cannot  allow  you  to  de- 
vour grammar  in  such  large  quantities  as  you  have  taken  of 
geography  and  history  at  a  meal.  For,  grammar  requires  to 
be  digested  as  well  as  swallowed;  in  other  words,  it  needs  to 
be  understood  as  well  as  remembered,"  said  Mr.  Green,  as  he 
marked  the  lesson  for  his  pupil. 

Ishmael  smiled  as  he  went  back  to  his  seat. 

To  ordinary  boys  the  study  of  grammar  is  very  dry  work. 
Not  so  to  Ishmael.  For  his  rare,  fine,  intellectual  mind  the 
analysis  of  language  had  a  strange  fascination.  He  soon  con- 
quered the  difficulties  of  his  initiatory  lesson  in  this  science, 
and  recited  it  to  the  perfect  satisfaction  of  his  teacher. 

And  then  the  morning's  lessons  were  all  over. 

This  had  been  a  forenoon  of  varied  pleasures  to  Ishmael. 
The  gates  of  the  Temple  of  Knowledge  had  been  thrown  open 
to  him.  All  three  of  his  studies  had  charmed  him :  the  marvel- 
ous description  of  the  earth's  surface,  the  wonderful  history  of 
the  human  race,  the  curious  analysis  of  language — each  had  ia. 
its  turn  delighted  him.  And  now  came  the  recreation  hour 
to  refresh  him. 

The  girls  all  went  to  walk  on  the  lawn  in  front  of  the  house. 

The  boys  all  went  into  the  shrubberies  in  the  rear;  and  the 
day  pupils  began  to  open  their  dinner  baskets. 

Ishmael  took  a  piece  of  bread  from  his  pocket.  That  was  to 
be  his  dinner. 

But  presently  a  servant  came  out  of  the  house  and  spoke  to 
Walter  Middleton;  and  Walter  called  our  boy,  saying: 

"  Come,  Ishmael;  my  father  has  sent  for  you." 

Ishmael  put  his  piece  of  bread  in  his  pocket  and  accom- 
panied the  youth  into  the  house  and  to  the  dining-room,  where 
a  plain,  substantial  dinner  of  roast  mutton,  vegetables,  and  pud- 
ding was  provided  for  the  children  of  the  family. 

"  You  are  to  dine  with  my  children  every  day,  Ishmael,"  said 
Mr.  Middleton,  in  those  tones  of  cahn  authority  that  admitted 
of  no  appeal  from  their  decision. 

Ishm.ael  took  the  chair  that  was  pointed  out  to  him,  and  you 
may  be  sure  he  did  full  justice  to  the  nourishing  food  placed 
before  him. 


248      ishmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

When  dinner  was  over  the  boys  had  another  hour's  recreation 
in  the  grounds,  and  then  they  returned  to  the  schooh-oom  for 
afternoon  exercises.  These  were  very  properly  of  a  lighter  na- 
ture than  those  of  the  morning— being  only  penmanship,  elocu- 
tion, and  drawing. 

At  six  o'clock  the  school  was  dismissed.  And  Ishmael  went 
Lome,  enchanted  with  his  new  life,  but  wondering  where  little 
Claudia  could  be;  he  had  not  seen  ber  that  da!5\  And  thus 
ended  his  first  day  at  school. 

When  he  reached  the  hut  Hannab  had  supper  on  the  table. 

"  Well,  Ishmael,  how  did  you  get  on  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Hannah,  I  have  had  such  a  happy  day ! "  ex- 
claimed the  boy.  And  thereupon  he  commenced  and  poured 
upon  her  in  a  torrent  of  words  a  description  of  the  schoolroom, 
the  teachers,  the  studies,  the  dinner,  the  recreations,  and,  in, 
short,  the  history  of  his  whole  day's  experiences. 

"  And  so  you  are  charmed  ? "  said  Hannah. 

"  Oh,  avuit,  so  much !  "  smiled  the  boy. 

"  Hope  it  may  last,  that's  all !  for  I  never  yet  saw  the  lad  that* 
liked  school  after  the  first  novelty  wore  off,"  observed  the 
"woman. 

The  next  morning  Ishmael  awoke  with  the  dawn,  and  sprang 
from  his  pallet  in  the  loft  as  a  lark  from  its  nest  in  the  tree. 

He  hurried  downstairs  to  help  Hannah  with  the  morning 
"work  before  he  should  prepare  for  school. 

He  cut  wood,  and  brought  water  enough  to  last  through  the 
day,  and  then  ate  his  frugal  breakfast,  and  set  off  for  school. 

He  arrived  there  early — almost  too  early,  for  none  of  the  day 
pupils  had  come,  and  there  was  no  one  in  the  schoolroom  but 
the  young  Middletons  and  Claudia  Merlin. 

She  was  sitting  in  her  seat,  with  her  desk  open  before  her, 
and  her  black  ringletted  head  half  buried  in  it.  But  as  soon 
site  heard  the  door  open  she  glanced  up,  and  seeing  Ishmael, 
shut  down  the  desk  and  flew  to  meet  him. 

"  I  am  so  glad  you  come  to  school,  Ishmael !  I  wasn't  here 
yesterday,  because  I  had  a  cold;  but  I  knew  you  were!  And 
ch!  how  nice  you  do  look.  Indeed,  if  I  did  not  know  better,  I 
should  take  you  to  be  the  young  gentleman,  and  those  Burghes 
to  be  workman's  sons ! "  she  said,  as  she  held  his  hand,  and 
looked  approvingly  upon  his  smooth,  light  hair,  his  fair,  broad 
forehead,  clear,  blue  eyes,  and  delicate  features;  and  upon  his 
erect  figure  and  neat  dress. 


ISHMAEL    AND    CLAUDIA.  249 

"  Thank  you,  miss,"  answered  Ishmael,  with  boyish  embar- 
rassment. 

"  Come  here.  Bee,  and  look  at  him,"  said  Miss  Merlin,  ad- 
dressing some  unknown  little  party,  who  did  not  at  once  obey 
the  behest. 

With  a  reddening  cheek,  Ishmael  gently  essayed  to  pass  to 
his  seat;  but  the  imperious  little  lady  held  fast  his  hand,  as, 
with  a  more  peremptoi*y  tone,  she  said: 

"  Stop !  I  want  Be©  to  see  you !  Come  here.  Bee,  this  in- 
stant, and  look  at  Ishmael !  " 

This  time  a  little  golden-haired,  fair-faced  girl  came  from 
the  group  of  children  collected  at  the  window,  and  stood  before 
Claudia. 

"  There,  now.  Bee,  look  at  the  new  pupil !  Does  he  look  like 
a  common  boy — a  poor  laborer's  son  ?  " 

The  little  girl  addressed  as  Bee  was  evidently  afraid  to  dis- 
obey Claudia  and  ashamed  to  obey  her.  She  therefore  stood 
in  embarrassment. 

"  Look  at  him,  can't  you  ?  he  won't  bite  you ! "  said  Miss 
Claudia. 

Ishmael  felt  reassured  by  the  very  shyness  of  the  little  new 
acquaintance  that  was  being  forced  upon  him,  and  he  said, 
very  gently: 

"  I  will  not  frighten  you,  little  girl ;  I  am  not  a  rude  boy." 

"I  know  you  will  not;  it  is  not  that,"  murmured  the  little 
maiden,  encouraged  by  the  sweet  voice,  and  stealing  a  glance 
at  the  gentle,  intellectual  countenance  of  our  lad. 

"  There,  now,  does  he  look  like  a  laborer's  son  ? "  inquired 
Claudia. 

"  JSTo,"  murmured  Bee. 

"  But  he  is,  for  all  that !    He  is  the  son  of — of I  forget; 

but  some  relation  of  Hannah  Worth,  the  weaver.  Who  was 
your  father,  Ishmael?  I  never  heard — or  if  I  did  I  have  for- 
gotten.   Who  was  he  ?  " 

Ishmael's  face  grew  crimson.  Yet  he  could  not  have  told, 
because  he  did  not  know,  why  this  question  caused  his  brow 
to  burn  as  though  it  had  been  smitten  by  a  red-hot  iron. 

"Who  was  your  father,  I  ask  you,  Ishmael?"  persisted  the 
imperious  little  girl. 

"  I  do  not  remember  my  father.  Miss  Claudia,"  answered  the 
boy,  in  a  low,  half-stifled  voice. 

"And   now  you  have  hurt  his   feelings,   Claudia;   let  him 


250  ishmael;  oe,  ln"  the  depths. 

alone,"  whispered  the  fair  child,  in  a  low  voice,  as  the  tears  o£ 
a  vague  but  deep  sympathy,  felt  but  not  understood,  arose  to 
her  eyes. 

Before  another  word  could  be  said  Mrs,  Middleton  entered 
the  room. 

"  Ah,  Bee,  so  your  are  making  acquaintance  with  your  new 
schoolmate!  This  is  my  oldest  daughter,  Miss  Beatrice,  Ish- 
mael. We  call  her  Bee,  because  it  is  the  abbreviation  of  Bea- 
trice, and  because  she  is  such  a  busy,  helpful  little  lady."  she 
said,  as  she  shook  hands  with  the  boy  and  patted  the  little  girl 
on  the  head. 

The  entrance  of  the  teachers  and  the  day  pupils  broke  up 
this  little  group;  the  children  took  their  seats  and  the  school 
was  opened,  as  before,  with  prayer.  This  morning  the  tutor 
led  the  exercises.  Mr.  Middleton  was  absent  on  business.  This 
day  passed  much  as  the  previous  one,  except  that  at  its  close 
there  was  Claudia  to  shake  hands  with  Ishmael ;  to  tell  him  that 
he  was  a  bright,  intelligent  boy,  and  that  she  was  proud  of  him; 
and  all  with  the  air  of  a  princess  rewarding  some  deserving' 
peasant. 

CHAPTEE  XXIX. 

YOUNG  LOVE. 

Have  yon  been  out  Bome  starry  night, 

And  found  it  joy  to  bend 
Your  eyes  to  one  particular  light 

Till  it  becarae  a  friend  ? 
And  then  so  loved  that  glistening  spot, 

That  whether  it  were  far, 
Or  more,  or  less,  it  mattered  not — 

It  still  was  your  own  star  ? 
Thus,  and  thus  only,  can  yoa  know 

How  I,  even  lowly  I, 
Can  live  in  love,  though  set  so  low, 

And  my  lady-love  so  high! 

—Richard  MoncMon  Milnes. 

Ishmael's  improvement  was  marked  and  rapid ;  both  as  to  his 
bodily  and  mental  growth  and  progress.  His  happiness  in  his 
studies;  his  regular  morning  and  evening  walks  to  and  from 
school;  his  abundant  and  nutritious  noontide  meals  with  tho 
young  Middletons ;  even  his  wood-cutting  at  the  hut ;  hi?  whole 
manner  of  life,  in  fact,  had  tended  to  promote  the  best  devel- 
opment of  his  physical  organization.    He  grew  taller,  stronger, 


TOUNG    LOVE.  251 

and  broaJer-shouldered ;  he  held  himself  erect,  and  his  palo 
complexion  cleared  and  became  fair.  He  no  longer  ate  with  a 
canine  rapacity;  his  appetite  was  moderate,  and  his  habits  tem- 
perate, because  his  body  was  well  nourished  and  his  health  was 
sound. 

His  mental  progress  was  quite  equal  to  his  bodily  growth. 
He  quickly  mastered  the  elementary  branches  of  education, 
and  was  initiated  into  the  rudiments  of  Latin,  Greek,  and 
mathematics.  He  soon  overtook  the  two  Burghes  and  was 
placed  in  the  same  class  with  them  and  with  John  and  James 
Middleton — Mr.  Middleton's  second  and  third  sons.  When  he 
entered  the  class,  of  course  he  was  placed  at  the  foot;  but  he 
first  got  above  Ben  Burghe,  and  then  above  Alfred  Burghe,  and 
he  was  evidently  resolved  tO'  remain  above  them,  and  to  watch 
for  an  opportunity  for  getting  above  James  and  John  Middle- 
ton,  who  were  equally  resolved  that  no  such  opportunity  should 
be  afforded  him.  This  was  a  generous  emulation  encguraged 
by  Mr.  Middleton,  who  was  accustomed  to  say,  laughingly,  to 
his  boys: 

"  Take  care,  my  sons !  You  know  Ishmael  is  a  dead  shot ! 
Let  him  once  bring  you  down,  and  you  will  never  get  up 
again ! " 

And  to  Ishmael : 

"  Persevere,  my  lad !  Some  fine  day  you  will  catch  them  trip- 
ping, and  take  a  step  higher  in  the  class." 

And  he  declared  to  Mrs.  Middleton  that  his  own  sons  had 
never  progressed  so  rapidly  in  their  studies  as  now  that  they 
iiad  found  in  Ishmael  Worth  a  worthy  competitor  to  spur  them 
on.  Upon  that  very  account,  he  said,  the  boy  was  invaluable 
in  the  school. 

Well,  John  and  James  had  all  Ishmael's  industry  and  ambi- 
tion, but  they  had  not  his  genius !  consequently  they  were  soon 
distanced  in  the  race  by  our  boy.  Ishmael  got  above  James, 
and  kept  his  place;  then  he  got  above  John,  at  the  head  of  the 
class,  and  kept  that  place  also;  and  finally  he  got  so  far  ahead 
of  all  his  classmates  that,  not  to  retard  his  progress,  Mr.  Mid- 
dleton felt  obliged  to  advance  him  a  step  higher  and  place  him 
Deside  Walter  who,  up  to  this  time,  had  stood  alone,  unap- 
proached  and  unapproachable,  at  the  head  of  the  school. 

John  and  James,  being  generous  rivals,  saw  this  well-merited 
advancement  without  "  envy,  hatred  or  malice  " ;  but  to  Alfred 
and  Benjamin  Eurghe  it  was  as  gall  and  wormwood. 


252      ishmael;  oe,  liS'  the  depths. 

Walter  was,  of  course,  as  yet  rouch  in  advance  of  Ishmael; 
but,  in  placing  the  boys  together,  Mr.  Middleton  had  said : 

"  Xow,  Walter,  you  are  about  to  be  put  upon  your  very  best 
mettle.  Ishmael  will  certainly  overtake  you,  and  if  you  are  not 
very  careful  he  will  soon  surpass  you."' 

The  noble  boy  laughed  as  he  replied : 

"  After  what  I  have  seen  of  Ishmael  for  the  last  two  or  three 
years,  father,  I  dare  not  make  any  promises !  I  think  I  am  a 
fair  match  for  most  youths  of  my  age;  and  I  should  not  mind 
competing  with  industry  alone,  or  talent  alone,  or  with  a 
moderate  amount  of  both  united  in  one  boy;  but,  really,  when 
it  comes  to  competing  with  invincible  genius  combined  with 
indomitable  perseverence,  I  do  not  enter  into  the  contest  with 
any  very  sanguine  hopes  of  success." 

The  youth's  previsions  proved  true.  Before  the  year  was  out 
Ishmael  stood  by  his  side,  his  equal,  and  bidding  fair  to  become 
liis  superior. 

Mr.  Middleton  had  too  much  magnanimity  to  feel  any  little 
paternal  jealousy  on  this  account.  He  knew  that  his  own  sou 
•was  highly  gifted  in  moral  and  intellectual  endowments,  and 
he  was  satisfied;  and  if  Ishmael  Worth  was  even  his  son's 
superior  in  these  respects,  the  generous  man  only  rejoiced  the 
more  in  contemplating  the  higher  excellence. 

Commodore  Burghe  was  also  proud  of  his  protege.  He  was 
not  very  well  pleased  that  his  own  sons  were  eclipsed  by  the 
brighter  talents  of  the  peasant  boy;  but  he  only  shrugged  his 
shoulders  as  he  said: 

"  You  know  the  Bible  says  that  *  gifts  are  divers,'  my  friend. 
"Well,  my  two  boys  will  never  be  brilliant  scholars,  that  is  cer- 
tain; but  I  hope,  for  that  very  reason,  Alf  may  make  the 
Ijraver  soldier  and  Ben  the  bolder  sailor."  And  having  laid  this 
flattering  unction  to  his  soul,  the  old  man  felt  no  malice  against 
our  boy  for  outshining  his  own  sons. 

Not  so  the  Burghe  boys  themselves.  Their  natures  were 
essentially  low;  and  this  low  nature  betrayed  itself  in  their 
very  faces,  forms,  and  manners.  They  were  short  and  thick- 
set, with  bull  necks,  bullet  heads,  shocks  of  thick  black  hair,  low 
foreheads,  large  mouths,  dark  complexions,  and  sullen  expres- 
sions. They  were  very  much  alike  in  person  and  in  character. 
The  only  difference  being  that  Alf  was  the  bigger  and  the 
■wickeder  and  Ben  the  smaller  and  the  weaker. 

Against  Ishmael  they  had  many  grudges,  the  least  of  which 


YOUNG   LOVE.  253 

was  cause  enougli  with  them  for  lifelong  malice.  First,  on  that 
memorable  occasion  of  the  robbed  carriage,  he  had  exposed  their 
theft  and  their  falsehood.  Secondly,  he  had  had  the  good  luck 
to  save  their  lives  and  win  everlasting  renown  for  the  bravo 
act;  and  this,  to  churlish,  thankless,  and  insolent  natures  like 
theirs,  was  the  greater  offense  of  the  two;  and  now  he  had  had 
the  unpardonable  impudence  to  eclipse  them  in  the  school.  He ! 
the  object  of  their  father's  bounty,  as  they  called  him.  They 
lost  no  opportunity  of  sneering  at  him  whenever  they  dared  to 
do  so. 

Ishmael  Worth  could  very  well  afford  to  practice  forbearance 
towai'ds  these  ill-conditioned  lads.  He  was  no  longer  the  poor, 
sickly,  and  self-doubting  child  he  had  been  but  a  year  previous. 
Though  still  delicate  as  to  his  physique,  it  was  with  an  elegant, 
refined  rather  than  a  feeble  and  sickly  delicacy.  He  grew  very 
much  like  his  father,  who  was  one  of  the  handsomest  men  of 
his  day;  but  it  was  from  his  mother  that  he  derived  his  sweet 
voice  and  his  beautiful  peculiarity  of  smiling  only  with  his  eyes. 
His  school-life  had,  besides,  taught  him  more  than  book  learn- 
ing; it  had  taught  him  self-knowledge.  '  He  had  been  forced 
to  measure  himself  with  others,  and  find  out  his  relative  moral 
and  intellectual  standing.  His  success  at  school,  and  the  appre- 
ciation he  received  from  others,  had  endowed  him  with  a  self- 
respect  and  confidence  easily  noticeable  in  the  modest  dignity 
and  grace  of  his  air  and  manner.  In  these  respects  also  his 
deportment  formed  a  favorable  contrast  to  the  shame-faced, 
haK-sullen,  and  half-defiant  behavior  of  the  Burghes.  These 
boys  were  the  only  enemies  Ishmael  possessed  in  the  school; 
his  sweetness  of  spirit  had,  on  the  contrary,  made  him  many 
friends.  He  was  ever  ready  to  do  any  kindness  to  anyone;  ta 
give  up  his  own  pleasure  for  the  convenience  of  others;  to 
help  forward  a  backward  pupil,  or  to  enlighten  a  dull  one.  This 
goodness  gained  him  grateful  partisans  among  the  boys;  but 
he  had,  also,  disinterested  ones  among  the  girls. 

Claudia  and  Beatrice  were  his  self-constituted  little  lady-* 
patronesses.  The  Burghes  did  not  dare  to  sneer  at  Ishmael'a 
humble  position  in  their  presence.  For,  upon  the  very  first 
occasion  that  Alfred  had  ventured  a  sarcasm  at  the  expense  of 
Ishmael  in  her  hearing,  Claudia  had  so  shamed  him  for  iu' 
suiting  a  youth  to  whose  bravery  he  was  indebted  for  his  life, 
that  even  Master  Alfred  had  had  the  grace  to  blush,  and  ever 
afterward  had  avoided  exposing  himself  to  a  similar  scorching 


254:  ishmael;  or,  iisr  the  depths. 

In  this  little  world  of  the  schoolroom  there  was  a  little  tin- 
conscious  drama  beginning  to  be  performed. 

I  said  that  Claudia  and  Beatrice  had  constituted  themselves 
the  little  lady-patronesses  of  the  poor  boy.  But  there  was  a 
difference  in  their  manner  towards  their  protege. 

The  dark-eyed,  dark-haired,  imperious  young  heiress  patron- 
ized him  in  a  right  royal  manner,  trotting  him  out,  as  it  were, 
for  the  inspection  of  her  friends,  and  calling  their  attention 
to  his  merits — so  surprising  in  a  boy  of  his  station ;  very  much, 
I  say,  as  she  would  have  exhibited  the  accomplishments  of  her 
dog,  Fido,  so  wonderful  in  a  brute !  very  much,  ah !  as  duchesses 
pathonize  promising  young  poets. 

This  was  at  times  so  humiliating  to  Ishmael  that  his  self- 
respect  must  have  suffered  terribly,  fatally,  but  for  Beatrice. 

The  fair-haired,  blue-eyed,  and  gentle  Bee  had  a  much  finer, 
more  delicate,  sensitive,  and  susceptible  nature  than  her  cousin ; 
she  understood  Ishmael  better,  and  sympathized  with  him  more 
than  Claudia  could.  She  loved  and  respected  him  as  an  elder 
trother,  and  indeed  more  than  she  did  her  elder  brothers;  for 
lie  was  much  superior  to  both  in  physical,  moral,  and  intellectual 
beauty.  Bee  felt  all  this  so  deeply  that  she  honored  in  Ishmael 
lier  ideal  of  what  a  boy  ought  to  be,  and  what  she  wished  her 
brothers  to  become. 

In  a  word,  the  child-woman  had  already  set  up  an  idol  in  her 
teart,  an  idol  never,  never,  in  all  the  changes  and  chances  of 
this  world,  to  be  thrown  from  its  altar.  Already  she  uncon- 
sciously identified  herself  with  his  successes.  He  was  now  the 
classmate,  equal,  and  competitor  of  her  eldest  brother;  yet  in. 
the  literary  and  scholastic  rivalship  and  struggle  between  the 
two,  it  was  not  for  Walter,  but  for  Ishmael  that  she  secretly 
trembled;  and  in  their  alternate  triumphs  and  defeats,  it  was 
not  with  Walter,  but  Ishmael,  that  she  sorrowed  or  rejoiced. 

Bee  was  her  mother's  right  hand  woman  in  all  household 
affairs;  she  would  have  been  the  favorite,  if  Mrs.  Middleton's 
strict  sense  of  justice  had  permitted  her  to  have  one  among  the 
children.  It  was  Bee  who  was  always  by  her  mother's  side  in 
the  early  morning,  helping  her  to  prepare  the  light,  nutritious 
puddings  for  dinner. 

On  these  occasions  Bee  would  often  beg  for  some  special 
kind  of  tart  or  pie,  not  for  the  gratification  of  her  own  appe- 
tite, but  because  she  had  noticed  that  Ishmael  liked  that  dish. 
So  early  she  became  his  little  household  guardian. 


YOUNG    LOVE.  255 

And  Islimael?  He  was  now  nearly  sixteen  years  old,  and 
thoughtful  beyond  his  years.  Was  he  grateful  for  this  little 
creature's  earnest  affection?  Very  grateful  he  was  indeed! 
He  had  no  sister;  but  as  the  dearest  of  all  dear  sisters  he  loved 
this  little  woman  of  twelve  summers. 

But  she  was  not  his  idol!  Oh,  no!  The  star  of  his  boyish 
-worship  was  Claudia!  Whether  it  was  from  youthful  per- 
versity, or  from  prior  association,  or,  as  is  most  likely,  by  the 
attraction  of  antagonism,  the  fair,  gentle,  intellectual  peasant 
boy  adored  the  dark,  fiery,  imperious  young  patrician  who  loved, 
petted,  and  patronized  him  only  as  if  he  had  been  a  wonderfully 
learned  pig  or  very  accomplished  pai'rot !  Bee  knew  this ;  but 
the  pure  love  of  her  sweet  spirit  was  incapable  of  jealousy, 
and  when  she  saw  that  Ishmael  loved  Claudia  best,  she  herself 
saw  reason  in  that  for  esteeming  her  cousin  higher  than  she  had 
ever  done  before!  If  Ishmael  loved  Claudia  so  much,  then 
Claudia  must  be  more  worthy  than  ever  she  had  supposed  her  to 
he !    Such  was  the  reasoning  of  Beatrice. 

Did  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Middleton  observe  this  little  domestic 
drama  ? 

Yes;  but  they  attached  no  importance  to  it.  They  consid- 
ered it  all  the  harmless,  shallovf,  transient  friendships  of  child- 
hood. They  had  left  their  own  youth  so  far  behind  that  they 
forgot  what  serious  matters — sometimes  affecting  the  happiness 
of  many  years,  sometimes  deciding  the  destiny  of  a  life — are 
commenced  in  the  schoolroom. 

Ishmael  was  felt  to  be  perfectly  trustworthy;  therefore  he 
was  allowed  the  privilege  of  free  association  with  these  little 
girls — an  honor  not  accorded  to  other  day  pupils. 

This  "  unjust  partiality,"  as  they  called  the  well-merited  con- 
fidence bestowed  upon  our  boy,  greatly  incensed  the  Burghes, 
and  increased  their  enmity  against  Ishmael. 

Master  Alfred,  who  was  now  a  very  forward  youth  of  eigh- 
teen, fancied  himself  to  be  smitten  with  the  charms  of  the  little 
beauty  of  fifteen.  Whether  he  really  was  so  or  not  it  is  im- 
possible to  say;  but  it  is  extremely  probable  that  he  was  more 
alive  to  the  fortune  of  the  heiress  than  to  the  beauty  of  the  girl. 
Avarice  is  not  exclusively  the  passion  of  the  aged,  nor  is  it 
a  whit  less  powerful  than  the  passion  of  love.  Thus  young 
Alfred  Burghe  was  as  jealous  of  Ishmael's  approach  to  Claudia, 
as  if  he — Alfred — had  loved  the  girl  instead  of  coveting  her 
wealth-    Early,  very  early,  marriages  were  customary  in  that 


256      ishmael;  oe,  en'  the  depths. 

neighborliood ;  so  that  there  was  nothing  very  extravagant  in 
the  dream  of  that  fast  young  gentleman,  that  in  another  year — 
namely,  when  he  should  be  nineteen  and  she  sixteen — he  might 
marry  the  heiress,  and  revel  in  her  riches.  But  how  was  he  to 
marry  her  if  he  could  not  court  her  ?  And  how  was  he  to  court 
her  if  he  was  never  permitted  to  associate  with  her?  He  was 
forbidden  to  approach  her,  while  "  that  cur  of  a  weaver  boy  " 
was  freely  admitted  to  her  society!  He  did  not  reflect  that  the 
"weaver  boy"  had  earned  his  own  position;  had  established  a 
character  for  truth,  honesty,  fidelity;  was  pure  in  spirit,  word, 
and  deed,  and  so  was  fit  company  for  the  young.  But  Alfred 
was  quite  incapable  of  appreciating  all  this;  he  thought  the 
preference  shown  to  Ishmael  unjust,  indecent,  outrageous,  and 
he  resolved  to  be  revenged  upon  his  rival,  by  exposing,  taunting, 
and  humiliating  him  in  the  presence  of  Claudia,  the  very  first 
time  chance  should  throw  them  all  three  together. 

Satan,  who  always  assists  his  ov5ti,  soon  sent  the  opportunity. 

It  was  near  the  first  of  August ;  there  was  to  be  an  examina- 
tion, exhibition,  and  distribution  of  prizes  at  the  school.  And 
the  parents  and  friends  of  the  pupils  were  invited  to  attend. 

Walter  Middleton  and  Ishmael  Worth  were  at  the  head  of  the 
school  and  would  compete  for  the  first  prizes  with  equal  chance 
of  success.  The  highest  prize — a  gold  watch — was  to  be  awarded 
to  the  best  written  Greek  thesis.  Walter  and  Ishmael  were  both 
ordered  to  write  for  this  prize,  and  for  weeks  previous  to  the 
exaraination  all  their  leisure  time  was  bestowed  upon  this  work. 
The  day  before  the  examination  each  completed  his  own  com- 
position. And  then,  like  good,  confidential,  unenvying  friends 
as  they  were,  they  exchanged  papers  and  gave  each  other  a 
sight  of  their  work.  When  each  had  read  and  returned  his 
rival's  thesis,  Walter  said  with  a  sigh: 

"  It  will  be  just  as  I  foreboded,  Ishmael.  I  said  you  would 
take  the  prize,  and  now  I  Know  it." 

Ishmael  paused  some  time  before  he  answered  calmly : 

"  No,  Walter,  I  will  not  take  it." 

"  Not  take  it !  nonsense !  if  you  do  not  take  it,  it  will  be  be- 
cause the  examiners  do  not  know  their  business!  Why,  Ish- 
mael^ there  can  be  no  question  as  to  the  relative  merits  of  your 
composition  and  mine!  Mine  will  not  bear  an  instant's  com- 
parison with  yours." 

"  Yfiur  thesis  is  perfectly  correct;  there  is  not  a  mistake  in 
i*/  Baid  Ishmael  encouragingly. 


ISHMAEL    AND    CLAUDIA.  257 

"  Oh,  yes,  it  is  correct  enough ;  but  yours,  Ishmael,  is  not  only 
that,  but  more !  for  it  is  strong,  logical,  eloquent !  Xow  I  can 
be  accurate  enough,  for  that  matter;  but  I  cannot  be  anything 
more !  I  cannot  be  strong,  logical,  or  eloquent  in  my  own  native 
and  living  language,  much  less  in  a  foreign  and  a  dead  one  J 
So,  Ishmael,  you  will  gain  the  prize." 

"  I  am  quite  sure  that  I  shall  not,"  replied  our  boy. 

"  Then  it  will  be  because  our  examiners  will  know  no  more 
of  Greek  than  I  do,  and  not  so  much  as  yourself !  And  as  that 
cannot  possibly  be  the  case,  they  must  award  you  the  prize,  my 
boy.  And  you  shall  be  welcome  to  it  for  me !  I  have  done  my 
duty  in  doing  the  very  best  I  could;  and  if  you  excel  me  by 
doing  better  still.  Heaven  forbid  that  I  should  be  so  base  as  to 
grudge  you  the  reward  you  have  so  well  earned.  So  God  bless 
you,  old  boy,"  said  Walter,  as  he  parted  from  his  friend. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

ISHMAEL  AND  CLAUDIA. 

And  both  were  young — yet  not  alike  in  youth; 
As  the  sweet  moon  upon  the  horizon's  verge, 
The  maid  was  on  tlie  eve  of  womanhood; 
The  boy  had  no  more  summers:  but  his  heart 
Had  far  ont-grown  his  years,  and  to  his  eye 
There  was  but  one  beloved  face  on  earth, 
And  that  was  shining  on  him. 

— Byron, 

The  first  of  August,  the  decisive  day,  arrived.  It  was  to  be 
a  fete  day  for  the  whole  neighborhood — that  quiet  neighbor- 
hood, where  fetes,  indeed,  were  so  unusual  as  to  make  a  great 
sensation  when  they  did  occur.  There  was  to  be  the  examina- 
tion in  the  forenoon,  followed  by  the  distribution  of  prizes  in 
the  afternoon,  and  a  dance  in  the  evening.  "  The  public  "  were 
invited  to  attend  in  the  morning  and  afternoon,  and  the  par- 
ents, friends,  and  guardians  of  the  pupils  were  invited  to  re- 
main for  the  dinner  and  ball  in  the  evening.  All  the  young 
people  were  on  the  qui  vive  for  this  festival;  and  their  elders 
were  not  much  less  excited. 

Everywhere  they  were  preparing  dresses  as  well  as  lessons- 
Poor  Hannah  Worth,  whose   circumstances  were  much   im- 
proved since  she  had  been  seamstress  in  general  to  Mrs.  !Mid- 
dleton's  large  family,  had  strained  every  nerve  to  procure  for 


258      ishmael;  oe,  Ij^t  the  depths. 

Ishmael  a  genteel  suit  of  clothes  for  this  occasion.  And  she 
had  succeeded.  And  this  summer  morning  saw  Ishmael  ar- 
rayed, for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  in  a  neat,  well-fitting  dress 
suit  of  light  gray  cassimere,  made  by  the  Baymouth  tailor. 
Hannah  was  proud  of  her  nephew,  and  Ishmael  was  pleased 
with  himself.  He  was  indeed  a  handsome  youth,  as  he  stood 
smiling  there  for  the  inspection  of  his  aunt.  Every  vestige  o£ 
ill  health  had  left  him,  but  left  him  with  a  delicacy,  refinement, 
and  elegance  in  his  person,  manners,  and  speech  very  rare  in 
any  youth,  rarer  still  in  youth  of  his  himible  grade.  But  all 
this  was  of  the  soul. 

"  You  will  do,  Ishmael — ^you  will  do  very  well  indeed !  "  said 
Hannah,  as  she  drew  the  boy  to  her  bosom  and  kissed  him 
"with  blended  feelings  of  affection,  admiration,  and  remorse. 
Yes,  remorse;  for  Hannah  remembered  how  often,  in  his  feeble 
infancy,  she  had  wished  him  dead,  and  had  been  impatient  for 
his  death. 

"  I  hope  you  will  do  yourself  credit  to-day,  Ishmael,"  she 
said,  as  she  released  him  from  her  embrace. 

"  I  shall  try  to  do  you  credit.  Aunt  Hannah,"  replied  the 
smiling  youth,  as  he  set  off  gayly  for  the  fete  at  the  school. 

It  was  a  splendid  morning,  but  promised  to  be  a  sultry  day. 

When  he  reached  Brudenell  Hall  he  found  the  young  ladies 
and  gentlemen  of  the  school,  about  twenty  in  all,  assembled 
on  the  front  lawn  before  the  house.  The  young  gentlemen  in 
their  holiday  suits  were  sauntering  lazily  about  among  the  par- 
terres and  shrubberies.  The  young  ladies  in  their  white  mus- 
lin dresses  and  pink  sashes  were  grouped  under  the  shade  of 
that  grove  of  flowering  locusts  that  stood  near  the  house — the 
same  grove  that  had  sheltered  some  of  them  on  the  night  of 
the  fire. 

As  Ishmael  came  up  the  flagged  walk  leading  to  the  house 
Claudia  saw  him  and  called  out: 

"  Come  here,  Ishmael,  and  let  us  look  at  you ! " 

The  youth,  blushing  with  the  consciousness  of  his  new 
clothes,  and  the  criticisms  they  would  be  sure  to  provoke  from 
his  honored  but  exasperating  little  patroness,  advanced  to  the 
group  of  white-robed  girls. 

Claudia,  with  her  glittering  black  ringlets,  her  rich  crimson 
bloom,  and  glorious  dark  eyes,  was  brilliantly  beautiful,  and 
at  fifteen  looked  quite  a  young  woman,  while  Ishmael  at  six- 
teen seemed  still  a  boy. 


ISHMAEL   AND    CLAUDIA.  259 

Her  manner,  too,  was  that  of  a  young  lady  towards  a  mere 
lad. 

She  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  looked  at  him  from  head  to 
foot,  and  turned  him  around;  and  then,  with  a  triumphant 
smile,  appealed  to  her  companions,  exclaiming: 

"  Look  at  him  now !  Isn't  he  really  elegant  in  his  new 
clothes?  Light  gray  becomes  him — his  complexion  is  so  fair 
and  clear!  There  isn't  another  boy  in  the  neighborhood  that 
wouldn't  look  as  yellow  as  a  dandelion  in  gray !  Isn't  he  hand- 
some, now  ? " 

This  was  a  very  severe  ordeal  for  Ishmael.  The  young  ladies 
had  all  gathered  around  Claudia,  and  were  examining  her  fa- 
vorite. Ishmael  felt  his  face  burn  until  it  seemed  as  if  the  very 
tips  of  his  ears  would  take  fire. 

"  Isn't  he  handsome,  now,  Bee  ? "  pursued  the  relentless 
Claudia,  appealing  to  her  cousin. 

Beatrice  was  blushing  in  intense  sympathy  with  the  blush- 
ing youth. 

"  I  say,  isn't  he  handsome.  Bee  ? "  persevered  the  implacable 
critic,  turning  him  around  for  her  cousin's  closer  inspection. 

"  Yes !  he  is  a  very  handsome  dog !  I  wonder  you  do  not  get 
a  collar  and  chain  for  him,  for  fear  he  should  run  away,  or 
someone  should  steal  him  from  you,  Claudia !  "  suddenly  ex- 
claimed the  distressed  girl,  bursting  into  indignant  tears. 

"  Consternation !  what  is  the  matter  now  ? "  inquired  the 
heiress,  dropping  her  victim,  from  whom  general  attention  was 
now  diverted. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Bee  ?  what  is  the  matter  ? "  inquired  all 
the  young  ladies,  gathering  around  the  excited  girl. 

Beatrice  could  only  sob  forth  the  words : 

"  Nothing,  only  Claudia  vexes  me." 

"  Jealous  little  imp !  "  laughed  Miss  Merlin. 

"  I  am  not  jealous,  I  am  only  vexed,"  sobbed  Beatrice. 

"  What  at  ?  what  at  ? "  was  the  general  question. 

But  Beatrice  only  answered  by  tears  and  sobs.  This  gen- 
tlest of  all  gentle  creatures  was  in  a  passion!  It  was  unprec- 
edented ;  it  was  wonderful  and  alarming ! 

"  I  should  really  like  to  know  what  is  the  matter  with  you, 
you  foolish  child !  Why  are  you  so  angry  with  me  ?  It  is  very 
unkind ! "  said  Miss  Merlin,  feeling,  she  knew  not  why,  a  little 
ashamed. 

"  I  would  not  be  angry  with  you  if  you  would  treat  him  prop- 


260  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN   THE    DEPTHS. 

erly,  like  a  young  gentleman,  and  not  like  a  dog!  You  trea'B 
him  for  all  the  world  as  you  treat  Fido,"  said  this  little  lady 
of  so  few  years,  speaking  with  an  effort  of  moral  courage  that 
distressed  her  more  than  her  companions  could  have  guessed, 
as  she  turned  and  walked  away. 

Ishmael  stepped  after  her.  There  were  moments  when  the 
boy's  soul  arose  above  all  the  embarrassments  incident  to  his 
age  and  condition. 

He  stepped  after  her,  and  taking  her  hand,  and  pressing  it 
affectionately,  said: 

"  Thank  you.  Bee !  Thank  you,  dear,  dearest,  Bee !  It  was 
bravely  done ! " 

She  turned  her  tearful,  smiling  face  towards  the  youth,  and 
replied : 

"  But  do  not  blame  Claudia.  She  means  well  alyrays ;  but, 
she  is " 

"  What  is  she  ?  "  inquired  the  youth  anxiously ;  for  there  was 
no  book  in  his  collection  that  he  studied  with  so  much  interest 
as  Claudia.  There  was  no  branch  of  knowledge  that  he  wished 
so  earnestly  to  be  thoroughly  acquainted  with  as  with  the  nature 
of  Claudia. 

"  What  is  she  ?  "  he  again  eagerly  inquired. 

"  She  is  blind,  where  you  are  concerned." 

"  I  think  so  too,"  murmured  Ishmael,  as  he  pressed  the  hand 
of  his  little  friend  and  left  her. 

Was  Ishmael's  allegiance  to  his  "  elect  lady  "  turned  aside  ? 

Ah,  no!  Claudia  might  misunderstand,  humiliate,  and 
"wound  him ;  but  she  was  still  "  his  own  star,"  the  star  of  des- 
tiny. He  went  straight  back  to  her  side.  But  before  a  word 
could  be  exchanged  between  them  the  bell  rang  that  sum- 
moned the  young  ladies  to  their  places  in  the  classroom. 

The  long  drawing  room,  which  was  opened  only  once  or  twice 
in  the  year,  for  large  evening  parties,  had  been  fitted  up  and 
decorated  for  this  fete. 

The  room  being  in  its  summer  suit  of  straw  matting,  lace 
curtains,  and  brown  holland  chair  and  sofa  covering,  needed 
but  little  change  in  its  arrangements. 

At  the  upper  end  of  the  room  was  erected  a  stage ;  upon  that 
was  placed  a  long  table;  behind  the  table  were  arranged  the 
seats  of  the  examining  committee;  and  before  it,  and  below  the 
stage,  were  ranged,  row  behind  row,  the  benches  for  the  cla?pe3, 
a  separate  bench  being  appropriated  to  each  class.    The  middle 


ISIOIAEL    AND    OLAUDIA.  261 

of  the  room  was  filled  up  with  additional  chairs,  arranged  in 
rows,  for  the  accommodation  of  the  audience.  The  walls  were 
profusely  decorated  with  green  boughs  and  blooming  flowers, 
arranged  in  festoons  and  wreaths. 

At  twelve  o'clock  precisely,  the  examining  committee  being 
in  their  places,  the  classbooks  on  the  table  before  them,  the 
classes  ranged  in  order  in  front  of  them,  and  the  greater  part 
of  the  company  assembled,  the  business  of  the  examination 
commenced  in  earnest. 

The  examining  committee  was  composed  of  the  masters  of 
a  neighboring  collegiate  school,  who  were  three  in  number — 
namely.  Professor  Adams,  Doctor  Martin,  and  Mr.  Watkins. 
The  school  was  divided  into  three  classes.  They  began  with  the 
lowest  class  and  ascended  by  regular  rotation  to  the  highest. 
The  examination  of  these  classes  passed  off  fairly  enough  to 
satisfy  a  reasonable  audience.  Among  the  pupils  there  was 
the  usual  proportion  of  "  sharps,  flats,  and  naturals  " — other- 
Tvise  of  bright,  dull,  and  mediocre  individuals.  After  the  ex- 
amination of  the  three  classes  was  complete,  there  remained 
the  two  youths,  Walter  Middleton  and  Ishmael  Worth,  who,  far 
in  advance  of  the  other  pupils,  were  not  classed  with  them,  and, 
being  but  two,  could  not  be  called  a  class  of  themselves.  Yet 
they  stood  up  and  were  examined  together,  and  acquitted 
themselves  with  alternating  success  and  equal  honor.  For  in- 
stance, in  mathematics  Walter  Middleton  had  the  advantage; 
in  belles-lettres  Ishmael  excelled;  in  modern  languages  both 
were  equal;  and  nothing  now  remained  but  the  reading  of  the 
two  Greek  theses  to  establish  the  relative  merits  of  these  gen- 
erous competitors.  These  compositions  had  been  placed  in  the 
liands  of  the  committee,  without  the  names  of  their  authors ;  so 
that  the  most  captious  might  not  be  able  to  complain  that  the 
decision  of  the  examiners  had  been  swayed  by  fear  or  favor. 
The  theses  were  to  be  read  and  deliberated  upon  by  the  exam- 
iners alone,  and  while  this  deliberation  was  going  on  there  was 
a  recess,  during  which  the  pupils  were  dismissed  to  amuse 
themselves  on  the  lawn,  and  the  audience  fell  into  easy  dis- 
order, moving  about  and  chatting  among  themselves. 

In  an  hour  a  bell  was  rung,  the  pupils  were  called  in  and 
arranged  in  their  classes,  the  audience  fell  into  order  again, 
and  the  distribution  of  prizes  commenced.  This  was  arranged 
on  so  liberal  a  scale  that  each  and  all  received  a  prize  for  some- 
thing or  other — if  it  were  not  for  scholastic  proficiency,   or 


262  ISHMAEL ;  OE,  iisr  the  depths. 

exemplary  deportment,  then  it  was  for  personal  neatness  or 
something  else.  The  two  Burghes,  who  were  grossly  ignorant, 
slothful,  perverse,  and  slovenly,  got  prizes  for  the  regular  at- 
tendance, into  which  they  were  daily  dragooned  by  their  father. 
Walter  Middleton  received  the  highest  prize  in  mathematics; 
Ishmael  Worth  took  the  highest  in  belles-lettres;  both  took 
prizes  in  modern  languages;  so  far  they  were  head  and  head 
in  the  race ;  and  nothing  remained  but  to  award  the  gold  watch, 
which  was  to  confer  the  highest  honors  of  the  school  upon  its 
fortunate  recipient.  But  before  awarding  the  watch  the  two 
theses  were  to  be  read  aloud  to  the  audience  for  the  benefit  of 
the  few  who  were  learned  enough  to  understand  them.  Pro- 
fessor Adams  was  the  reader.  He  arose  in  his  place  and  opened 
the  first  paper;  it  proved  to  be  the  composition  of  Ishmael 
Worth.  As  he  read  the  eyes  and  ears  of  the  two  young  com- 
petitors, who  were  sitting  together,  were  strained  upon  him. 

"  Oh,  I  know  beforehand  you  will  get  the  prize !  And  I  wish 
you  joy  of  it,  my  dear  fellow!"  whispered  Walter. 

"  Oh,  no,  I  am  sure  I  shall  not !  You  will  get  it !  You 
will  see !  "  replied  Ishmael. 

Walter  shook  his  head  incredulously.  But  as  the  reading 
proceeded  Walter  looked  surprised,  then  perplexed,  and  then 
utterly  confounded.     Finally  he  turned  and  inquired: 

"  Ish.,  what  the  mischief  is  the  old  fellow  doing  with  your 
composition  ?    He  is  reading  it  all  wrong." 

"  He  is  reading  just  what  is  written,  I  suppose,"  replied 
Ishmael. 

"  But  he  isn't,  I  tell  you !  I  ought  to  know,  for  I  have  read 
it  myself,  you  remember!  and  I  assure  you  he  makes  one  or 
two  mistakes  in  every  paragraph!  The  fact  is,  I  do  not  be- 
lieve he  knows  much  of  Greek,  and  he  will  just  ruin  us  both  by 
reading  our  compositions  in  that  style !  "  exclaimed  Walter. 

"  He  is  reading  mine  aright,"  persisted  Ishmael. 

And  before  Walter  could  reply  again,  the  perusal  of  Ish- 
mael's  thesis  was  finished,  the  paper  was  laid  upon  the  table, 
and  Walter's  thesis  was  taken  up. 

"  Now  then ;  I  wonder  if  he  is  going  to  murder  mine  in  the 
same  manner,"  said  Walter. 

The  reader  commenced  and  went  on  smoothly  to  the  end 
■without  having  miscalled  a  word  or  a  syllable. 

"That  is  a  wonder;  I  do  not  understand  it  at  all!"  said 
young  Middleton. 


ISHJIAEL    AND    CLAUDIA.  263 

Ishmael  smiled;  but  did  not  reply. 

Professor  Adams  rapped  upon  the  table  and  called  the  school 
to  order;  and  then,  still  retaining  Walter's  thesis  in  his  hand, 
he  said: 

"  The  highest  prize  in  the  gift  of  the  examiners — the  gold 
watch — is  awarded  to  the  author  of  the  thesis  I  hold  in  my 
hand.  The  young  gentleman  will  please  to  declare  himself, 
walk  forward,  and  receive  the  reward." 

"There,  Walter!  what  did  I  tell  you?  I  wish  you  joy  now, 
old  fellow !  There !  '  go  where  glory  awaits  you,'  "  smilingly 
whispered  Ishmael. 

"  I  understand  it  all  now,  Ish. !  I  fully  understand  it !  But 
I  will  not  accept  the  sacrifice,  old  boy,"  replied  Walter. 

"Will  the  young  gentleman  who  is  the  author  of  the  prize 
thesis  step  up  and  be  invested  with  this  watch?"  rather  im- 
patiently demanded  the  wearied  Professor  Adams. 

Walter  Middleton  arose  in  his  place. 

"  I  am  the  author  of  the  thesis  last  read ;  but  I  am  not  enti- 
tled to  the  prize ;  there  has  been  a  mistake." 

"  Walter !  "  exclaimed  his  father,  in  a  tone  of  rebuke. 

The  examiners  looked  at  the  young  speaker  in  surprise,  and 
at  each  other  in  perplexity. 

"Excuse  me,  father;  excuse  me,  gentlemen;  but  there  has 
been  a  serious  mistake,  which  I  hope  to  prove  to  you,  and  which. 
I  know  you  wovild  not  wish  me  to  profit  by,"  persisted  the 
youth  modestly,  but  firmly. 

"  Don't,  now,  Walter !  hush,  sit  down,"  whispered  Ishmael  in 
distress. 

"  I  will,"  replied  young  Middlcton  firmJy, 

"Walter,  come  forward  and  explain  yourself;  you  certainly 
owe  these  gentlemen  both  an  explanation  and  an  apology  for 
your  unseemly  interruption  of  their  proceedings  and  your  pre- 
sumptuous questioning  of  their  judgment,"  said  Mr.  Middleton. 

"  Father,  I  am  willing  and  anxious  tO'  explain,  and  my  ex- 
planation in  itself  will  be  my  very  best  apology;  but,  before  I 
can  go  on,  I  wish  to  beg  the  favor  of  a  sight  of  the  thesis  that 
was  first  read,"  said  Walter,  coming  up  to  the  table  of  the 
examiners. 

The  paper  was  put  in  his  hands.  He  cast  his  eyes  over  it 
and  smiled. 

"Well,  my  young  friend,  what  do  you  mean  by  that?"  in- 
quired Professor  Adams. 


264  ishmael;  or,  iit  the  depths. 

"Why,  sir,  I  mean  that  it  is  just  as  I  surmised;  that  this 
paper  which  I  hold  in  my  hand  is  not  the  paper  that  was  pre- 
pared for  the  examining  committee;  this,  sir,  must  be  the 
original  draft  of  the  thesis,  and  not  the  fair  copy  which  was 
intended  to  compete  for  the  gold  watch,"  said  Walter  firmly. 

"  But  why  do  you  say  this,  sir  ?  What  grounds  have  you  for 
entertaining  such  an  opinion  ? "  inquired  Professor  Adams. 

Young  Middleton  smiled  confidently  as  he  replied : 

"  I  have  seen  and  read  the  fair  copy ;  there  was  not  a  mis- 
take in  it;  and  it  was  in  every  other  respect  greatly  superior 
to  my  own." 

"  If  this  is  true,  and  of  course  I  know  it  must  be  so,  since 
you  say  it,  my  son,  why  was  not  the  fair  copy  put  in  our  hands  ? 
By  what  strange  inadvertence  has  this  rough  draft  found  its 
way  to  us  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Middleton. 

"  Father,"  replied  Walter,  in  a  low  voice,  "  by  no  inadver- 
tence at  all !  Ishraael  has  done  this  on  purpose  that  your  son 
might  receive  the  gold  watch.  I  am  sure  of  it;  but  I  cannot 
accept  his  noble  sacrifice !  Father,  you  would  not  have  roe 
do  it." 

"  No,  Walter ;  no,  my  boy ;  not  if  a  kingdom  instead  of  a 
gold  watch  were  at  stake.  You  must  not  profit  by  his  renun- 
ciation, if  there  has  been  any  renunciation.  But  are  you  sure 
that  there  has  been  ?  " 

"  I  will  prove  it  to  your  satisfaction,  sir.  Yesterday,  in  my 
great  anxiety  to  know  how  my  chances  stood  for  the  first  prize, 
I  asked  Ishmael  for  a  sight  of  his  thesis,  and  I  tendered  him  a 
sight  of  mine.  Ishmael  did  not  refuse  me.  We  exchanged 
papers  and  read  each  other's  compositions.  Ishmael's  was 
fairly  written,  accurate,  logical,  and  very  eloquent.  Mine  was 
very  inferior  in  every  respect  except  literal  accuracy.  Ishmael 
must  have  seen,  after  comparing  the  two,  that  he  must  gain 
the  prize.  I  certainly  knew  he  would;  I  expressed  my  convic- 
tion strongly  to  that  effect;  and  I  congratulated  him  in  an- 
ticipation of  a  certain  triumph.  But,  though  I  wished  him 
joy,  I  must  have  betrayed  the  mortification  that  was  in  my  own 
heart;  for  Ishmael  insisted  that  I  should  be  sure  to  get  the 
medal  myself.  And  this  is  the  way  in  which  he  has  secured 
the  fulfillment  of  his  own  prediction :  by  suppressing  his  fair 
copy  that  must  have  taken  the  prize,  and  sending  up  that 
rough  draft  on  purpose  to  lose  it  in  my  favor." 

"  Can  this  be  true  ? "  mused  Mr.  Middleton. 


ISHMAEL   AND    CLAUDIA.  2G5 

*'You  can  test  its  truth  for  yourself,  sir.  Call  up  Ishmael 
Worth.  You  know  that  he  will  not  speak  falsely.  Ask  him  if 
he  has  not  suppressed  the  fair  copy  and  exhibited  the  rough 
draft.  You  have  authority  over  him,  sir.  Order  him  to  pro- 
duce the  suppressed  copy,  that  his  abilities  may  be  justly 
tested,"  said  Walter. 

Mr.  Middleton  dropped  his  head  upon  his  chest  and  mused. 

Meanwhile  the  audience  were  curious  and  impatient  to  know 
what  on  earth  could  be  going  on  around  the  examiner's  table. 
Those  only  who  were  nearest  had  heard  the  words  of  Walter 
Middleton  when  he  first  got  up  to  disclaim  all  right  to  the  gold 
watch.  But  after  he  had  gone  forward  to  the  table  no  more 
was  heard,  the  conversation  being  carried  on  in  a  confidential 
tone  much  too  low  to  be  heard  beyond  the  little  circle  around 
the  board. 

After  musing  for  a  few  minutes,  Mr.  Middleton  lifted  his 
head  and  said: 

"I  will  follow  your  advice,  my  son."  Then,  raising  his 
voice,  he  called  out: 

"  Ishmael  Worth   come   forward." 

Ishmael,  who  had  half  suspected  what  was  going  o  around 
that  table,  now  arose,  approached  and  stood  respectfully  wait- 
ing orders. 

Mr.  Middleton  took  the  thesis  from  the  hands  of  Walter  and 
placed  it  in  those  of  Ishmael,  saying: 

"  Look  over  that  paper  and  tell  me  if  it  is  not  the  first  rough 
draft  of  your  thesis." 

"  Yes,  sir,  it  is,"  admitted  the  youth,  as  with  embarrassment 
he  received  the  paper. 

"  Have  you  a  fair  copy  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Middleton. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Where  is  it  ?  anywhere  in  reach  ?  " 

"It  is  in  the  bottom  of  my  desk  in  the  schoolroom,  sir." 

"  Go  and  fetch  it,  that  we  may  examine  it  and  fairly  test 
your  abilities,"  commanded  the  master. 

Ishmael  left  the  drawing-room,  and  after  an  absence  of  a 
few  minutes  returned  with  a  neatly  folded  paper,  which  he 
handed  to  Mr.  Middleton. 

That  gentleman  unfolded  and  looked  at  it.  A  very  cursory 
examination  served  to  prove  the  great  superiority  of  this  copy 
over  the  original  one.  Mr.  Middleton  refolded  it,  and,  looking 
steadily  and  almost  sternly  into  Ishmael's  face,  inquired: 


266  ISIIMAEL  ;    OE,  IN    THE   DEPTHS. 

"  Was  the  rough  draft  sent  to  the  examiners,  instead  of  tliia 
fair  copy,  through  any  inadvertence  of  yours?  Answer  mo 
truly." 

"No,  sir,"  replied  Ishmael,  looking  down. 

"  It  was  done  knowingly,  then  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"For  what  purpose,  may  I  ask  you,  did  you  suppress  the 
fair  copy,  which  most  assuredly  must  have  won  you  the  watch, 
and  substitute  this  rough  draft,  that  as  certainly  must  have 
lost  it?" 

Still  looking  down,  Ishmael  remained  silent  and  embarrassed. 

"  Young  man,  I  command  you  to  reply  to  me,"  said  the 
master. 

"  Sir,  I  thought  I  had  a  right  to  do  as  I  pleased  with  my  own 
composition,"  replied  Ishmael,  lifting  his  head  and  looking 
straight  into  the  face  of  the  questioner,  with  that  modest  con- 
fidence which  sometimes  gained  the  victory  over  his  shyness. 

"  Unquestionably ;  but  that  is  not  an  answer  to  my  question, 
as  to  why  the  substitution  was  made." 

"I  wish  you  would  not  press  the  question,  sir." 

"  But  I  do,  Ishmael,  and  I  enjoin  you  to  answer  it." 

"  Then,  sir,  I  suppressed  the  fair  copy,  and  sent  up  the  rough 
draft,  because  I  thought  there  was  one  who,  for  his  great  dili- 
gence, had  an  equal  or  better  right  to  the  watch  than  I  had, 
and  who  would  be  more  pained  by  losing  it  than  I  should,  and 
I  did  not  wish  to  enter  into  competition  with  him;  for  indeed, 
sir,  if  I  had  won  the  watch  from  my  friend  I  should  have  beeii 
more  pained  by  his  defeat  than  pleased  at  my  own  victory,'* 
said  Ishmael,  his  fine  face  clearing  up  under  the  consciousness 
of  probity.  (But,  reader,  mark  you  this — it  was  the  amiabla 
trait  inherited  from  his  father — the  pain  in  giving  pain;  the 
pleasure  in  giving  pleasure.  But  we  know  that  this  propensity; 
which  had  proved  so  fatal  to  the  father  was  guided  by  con- 
science to  all  good  ends  in  the  son.) 

While  Ishmael  gave  this  little  explanation,  the  examiners 
listened,  whispered,  and  nodded  to  each  other  with  looks  of 
approval. 

And  Walter  came  to  his  friend's  side,  and  affectionately  took 
and  pressed  his  hand,  saying: 

"  I  knew  it,  as  soon  as  I  had  heard  both  theses  read,  and  saw 
that  they  seemed  to  make  mistakes  only  in  yours.  It  was  very 
generous  in  you,  Ishmael;  but  you  seemed  to  leave  out  of  the 


ISHMAEL    AND    CLAUDIA.  267 

jaccount  tte  fact  that  I  ought  not  to  have  profited  by  such  gen- 
erosity; and  also  that  if  I  had  lost  the  prize,  and  you  had 
won  it,  my  mortification  would  have  been  alleviated  by  the 
thought  that  you,  the  best  pupil  in  the  school,  and  my  own 
chosen  friend,  had  won  it." 

"  Order ! "  said  Mr.  Middleton,  interrupting  this  whispered 
conversation.  "  Ishmael,''  he  continued,  addressing  the  youth, 
"  your  act  was  a  generous  one,  certainly ;  whether  it  was  a  right- 
eous one  is  doubtful.  There  is  an  old  proverb  which  places 
*  justice  before  generosity.'  I  do  not  know  that  it  does  not  go 
so  far  as  even  to  inculcate  justice  to  ourselves  before  generosity 
to  our  fellows.  You  should  have  been  just  to  yourself  before 
being  generous  to  your  friend.  It  only  remains  for  us  now  to 
rectify  this  wrong."  Then  turning  to  Professor  Adams,  he 
said: 

"  Sir,  may  I  trouble  you  to  take  this  fair  copy  and  read  it 
aloud?" 

Professor  Adams  bowed  in  assent  as  he  received  the  paper. 

Ishmael  and  Walter  returned  to  their  seats  to  await  the  pro- 
ceedings. 

Professor  Adams  arose  in  his  place,  and  in  a  few  words  ex- 
plained how  it  happened  that  in  the  case  of  the  first  thesis 
read  to  them,  he  had  given  the  rough  draft  instead  of  the  fair 
copy,  which  in  justice  to  the  young  writer  he  should  now  pro- 
ceed to  read. 

'^ow,  although  not  half  a  dozen  persons  in  that  room  could 
have  perceived  any  difference  in  the  two  readings  of  a  thesis 
written  in  a  language  of  which  even  the  alphabet  was  un- 
known to  them,  yet  every  individual  among  them  could  keenly 
appreciate  the  magnanimity  of  Ishmael,  who  would  have  sacri- 
ficed his  scholastic  fame  for  his  friend's  benefit,  and  the  quick- 
ness and  integrity  of  Walter  in  discovering  the  generous  ruse 
and  refusing  the  sacrifice.  They  put  their  heads  together 
whispering,  nodding,  and  smiling  approval.  "  Damon  and 
Pythias,"  "  Orestes  and  Pylades,"  were  the  names  bestowed 
upon  the  two  friends.  But  at  length  courtesy  demanded  that 
the  audience  should  give  some  little  attention  to  the  reading  of 
the  Greek  thesis,  whether  they  understood  a  word  of  it  or  not. 
Their  patience  was  not  put  to  a  long  test.  The  reading  was  a 
matter  of  about  fifteen  minutes,  and  at  its  close  the  three  ex- 
aminers conversed  together  for  a  few  moments. 

And  then  Professor  Adams  arose  and  announced  the  young 


268  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  EST   THE   DEPTHS. 

author  of  the  thesis  which  he  had  just  read  as  the  successful 
competitor  for  the  highest  honors  of  the  school,  and  requested 
him  to  eome  forward  and  be  invested  with  the  prize. 

"  Now  it  is  my  time  to  wish  you  joy,  and  to  say,  '  Go  where 
glory  waits  you,'  Ishmael ! "  whispered  Walter,  pressing  his 
friend's  hand  and  gently  urging  him  from  his  seat. 

Ishmael  yielded  to  the  impulse  and  the  invitation,  and  went 
■up  to  the  table.  Professor  Adams  leaned  forward,  threw  the 
slender  gold  chain,  to  which  the  watch  was  attached,  arovmd  the 
neck  of  Ishmael,  saying: 

"  May  this  well-earned  prize  be  the  earnest  of  future  suc- 
cesses even  more  brilliant  than  this." 

Ishmael  bowed  low  in  acknowledgment  of  the  gold  watch 
and  the  kind  words,  and  amid  the  hearty  applause  of  the  com- 
pany returned  to  his  seat. 

The  business  of  the  day  was  now  finished,  and  as  it  was  now 
growing  late  in  the  afternoon,  the  assembly  broke  up.  The 
*'  public "  who  had  come  only  for  the  examination  returned 
Lome.  The  "  friends "  who  had  been  invited  to  the  ball  re- 
paired first  to  the  dining  room  to  partake  of  a  collation,  and 
then  to  chambers  which  had  been  assigned  them,  tQ  change  their 
dresses  for  the  evening. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

ISHMAEL  HEARS  A  SECRET  FROM  AN  ENEMY. 

Shame  come  toplomeo  ?    Blistered  be  thy  tongue 
For  such  a  wish  !    He  was  not  born  to  shame; 
Upon  his  brow  shame  is  ashamed  to  sit; 
For  'tis  a  throne  where  honor  may  be  crowned, 
Sole  monarch  of  the  universal  earth! 

— Shakspere. 

In  the  interval  the  drawing  room  was  rapidly  cleared  out 
and  prepared  for  dancing.  The  staging  at  the  upper  end, 
which  had  been  appropriated  to  the  use  of  the  examining  com- 
mittee, was  now  occupied  by  a  band  of  six  negro  musicians, 
Leaded  by  the  Professor  of  Odd  Jobs.  They  were  seated  all  in 
a  row,  engaged  in  tuning  their  instruments  under  the  instruc- 
tions of  Morris.  The  room  wore  a  gay,  festive,  and  inviting 
aspect.  It  was  brightly  lighted  up;  its  white  walls  were  fes- 
tooned with  wreaths  of  flowers;  its  oak  floor  was  polished  and 


iSHMAEL    HEAES    A    SECRET   FROM    AN   ENEMY.       269 

chalked  for  the  dancers;  and  its  windows  were  all  open  to  ad- 
mit the  pleasant  summer  air  and  the  perfume  of  flowers,  so 
much  more  refreshing  in  the  evening  than  at  any  other  time 
of  the  day. 

At  a  very  early  hour  the  young  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the 
school,  whose  gala  dresses  needed  but  the  addition  of  v/reaths 
and  bouquets  for  the  evening,  began  to  gather  in  the  drawing 
room;  the  girls  looking  very  pretty  in  their  white  muslin 
dresses,  pink  sashes,  and  coronets  of  red  roses;  and  the  boys 
very  smart  in  their  holiday  clothes,  with  rosebuds  stuck  into 
their  buttonholes.  Ishmael  was  made  splendid  by  the  addition 
of  his  gold  watch  and  chain,  and  famous  by  his  success  of  the 
morning.  All  the  girls,  and  many  of  the  boys,  gathered  around 
him,  sympathizing  with  his  triumph  and  complimenting  him 
upon  his  abilities.  Ishmael  was  clearly  the  hero  of  the  even- 
ing; but  he  bore  himself  with  an  aspect  half  of  pleasure,  half 
of  pain,  until  Walter  Middleton  approached  him,  and  taking 
his  arm  walked  him  down  the  room,  until  they  were  out  of  ear- 
shot from  the  others,  when  he  said : 

"Now  do,  Ishmael,  put  off  that  distressed  look  and  enjoy 
your  success  as  you  ought!  Make  much  of  your  watch,  my 
boy!  I  know  if  it  were  not  for  thoughts  of  me,  you  would 
enjoy  the  possession  of  it  vastly — would  you  not,  now  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Ishmael,  "  I  would." 

"You  would  not  be  a  'human  boy,'  if  you  didn't.  I  know 
well  enough  I  was  near  losing  my  wits  with  delight  in  the  first 
-watch  I  possessed,  although  it  was  but  a  trumpery  little  silver 
affair!  Well,  now,  Ishmael,  enjoy  your  possession  without  a 
drawback.  I  assure  you,  upon  record,  I  am  very  glad  you  got 
the  prize.  You  deserved  the  honor  more  than  I  did,  and  you 
needed  the  watch  more.  For  see  here,  you  know  I  have  a  gold 
one  of  my  own  already — my  mother's  gift  to  me  on  my  last 
birthday,"  continued  Walter,  taking  out  and  displaying  his 
school  watch.  "  Now  what  could  I  do  with  two  ?  So,  Ishmael, 
let  me  see  you  enjoy  yours,  or  else  I  shall  feel  unhappy,"  he 
concluded,  earnestly  pressing  his  friend's  hand. 

"Walter  Middleton,  what  do  you  mean,  sir,  by  stealing  my 
thunder  in  that  way  ?  It  is  my  property  that  you  are  carrying 
off!  Ishmael  is  my  protege,  my  liege  subject.  Bring  him 
back,  sir !  I  want  to  show  his  watch  to  my  companions,"  spoke 
the  imperious  voice  of  Miss  Merlin. 

"  Come,   Ishmael ;  you  must  make   a  spectacle  of  yourself 


270  ishmael;  oe,  in  the  depths. 

again,  I  suppose,  to  please  that  little  tyrant,"  laughed  "Walter, 
as  he  turned  back  with  his  friend  towards  the  group  of  young 
girls. 

Now  in  this  company  was  one  who  looked  with  the  envious 
malignity  of  Satan  upon  the  well-merited  honors  of  the  poor 
peasant  boy.  This  enemy  was  Alfred  Burghe,  and  he  was  now 
savagely  waiting  his  opportunity  to  inflict  upon  Ishmael  a 
severe  mortification. 

As  Walter  and  Ishmael,  therefore,  approached  the  group  of 
young  ladies,  Alfred,  who  was  loitering  near  them,  lying  in 
■wait  for  his  victim,  drew  away  with  an  expression  of  disgust 
upon  his  face,  saj'ing: 

"  Oh,  if  that  fellow  is  to  join  our  circle,  I  shall  feel  obliged 
to  leave  it.  It  is  degrading  enough  to  be  forced  to  mix  with 
such  rubbish  in  the  schoolroom,  without  having  to  associate 
with  him  in  the  drawing  room." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that,  sir  ? "  demanded  Miss  Merlin, 
flashing  upon  him  the  lightning  of  her  eyes,  before  Ishmael 
had  drawn  near  enough  to  overhear  the  words  of  Alfred. 

"  I  mean  that  fellow  is  not  fit  company  for  me." 

"  No ;  Heavens  knows  that  he  is  not ! "  exclaimed  Claudia 
pointedly. 

"Never  mind,  Miss  Merlin;  do  not  be  angry  with  him;  the 
beaten  have  a  right  to  cry  out,"  said  Ishmael,  who  had  now 
come  up,  and  stood  smiling  among  them,  totally  unconscious  of 
the  humiliation  that  was  in  store  for  him. 

"I  am  not  angry;  I  am  never  angry  with  such  dull  pups; 
though  I  find  it  necessary  to  punish  them  sometimes,"  replied 
Claudia  haughtily. 

"  I  say  he  is  no  fit  company  for  me ;  and  when  I  say  that,  I 
mean  to  say  that  he  is  no  fit  company  for  any  young  gentle- 
man, much  less  for  any  young  lady ! "  exclaimed  Alfred. 

Ishmael  looked  on  with  perfect  good  humor,  thinking  only 
that  his  poverty  was  sneered  at,  and  feeling  immeasurably  above 
the  possibility  of  humiliation  or  displeasure  upon  that  account. 

Claudia  thought  as  he  did,  that  only  his  lowly  fortunes  had 
exposed  him  to  contempt;  so  putting  her  delicate  white  gloved 
Land  in  that  of  Ishmael,  she  said: 

"  Ishmael  Worth  is  my  partner  in  the  first  dance ;  do  you 
dare  to  hint  that  the  youth  I  dance  with  is  not  proper  company 
for  any  gentleman,  or  any  lady,  either  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't  hint  it ;  I  speak  it  out  in  plain  words ;  he  is  not 


ISEDIAEL    HEAKS    A    SECEET    FROM   AN    ENEMY.       27i. 

only  not  fit  company  for  any  gentleman  or  lady,  but  he  is  not 
even  fit  company  for  any  decent  negro ! " 

Ishmael,  strong  in  conscious  worth,  and  believing  the  vt^ords 
of  Alfred  to  be  only  reckless  assertion,  senseless  abuse,  laughed 
aloud  vv'ith  sincere,  boyish  mirthfulness  at  its  absurdity. 

But  Claudia's  cheeks  grew  crin:=!on,  and  her  eyes  flashed — 
bad  signs  these  for  the  keeping  of  her  temper  towards  "  dull 
pups." 

"  He  is  honest,  truthful,  intelligent,  industrious,  and  polite. 
These  are  qualities  which,  of  course,  unfit  him  for  such  society 
as  yours,  Mr.  Burghe;  but  I  do  not  see  why  they  should  unfit 
him  for  that  of  ladies  and  gentlemen,"  said  Claudia  severely. 

"He  is  a  ,"  brutally  exclaimed  Alfred,  using  a  coarse 

■word,  at  which  all  the  young  girls  started  and  recoiled,  as  if 
each  had  received  a  wound,  while  all  the  boys  exclaimed  simul- 
taneously : 

"  Oh,  fie !  "  or  "  Oh,  Alf,  how  could  you  say  such  a  thing !  " 

"  For  shame !  " 

As  for  Walter  Middleton,  he  had  collared  the  young  mis- 
creant before  the  word  was  fairly  out  of  his  mouth.  But  an 
instant's  reflection  caused  the  young  gentleman  to  release  the 
culprit,  with  the  words : 

"  My  father's  house  and  the  presence  of  these  young  ladies 
protect  you  for  the  present,  sir." 

Ishmael  stood  alone,  in  the  center  of  a  shocked  and  recoiling 
circle  of  young  girls;  so  stunned  by  the  epithet  that  had  been 
hurled  at  him  that  he  scarcely  yet  understood  its  meaning 
or  felt  that  he  was  wounded. 

"  What  did  he  say,  Walter  ? "  he  inquired,  appealing  to  his 
friend. 

Walter  Middleton  put  his  strong  arm  around  the  slender  and 
elegant  form  of  Ishmael,  and  held  him  firmly;  but  whether  in 
a  close  embrace  or  light  restraint,  or  both,  it  was  hard  to  de- 
cide, as  he  answered : 

"  He  says  what  will  be  very  difficult  for  him  to  explain,  when 
lie  shall  be  called  to  account  to-morrow  morning;  but  what,  it 
is  quite  needless  to  repeat." 

"  I  say  he  is  a  !     His  mother  was  never  married !  and 

no  one  on  earth  knows  who  his  father  was — or  if  he  ever  had  a 
a  father !  "  roared  Alfred  brutally. 

Walter's  arm  closed  convulsively  upon  Ishmael.  There  was 
good  reason.     The  boy  had  given  one  spasmodic  bound  forward, 


272  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

as  if  he  would  have  throttled  his  adversary  on  the  spot ;  but  the 
restraining  arm  of  Walter  Middleton  held  him  back;  his  face 
was  pale  as  marble;  a  cold  sweat  had  burst  upon  his  brow;  he 
was  trembling  in  every  limb  as  he  gasped : 

"  Walter,  this  cannot  be  true !     Oh,  say  it  is  not  true !  " 

"  True !  no !  I  believe  it  is  as  false — as  false  as  that  young 
villain's  heart !  and  nothing  can  be  falser  than  that ! "  indig- 
nantly exclaimed  young  Middleton. 

"  It  is !  it  is  true !  The  whole  county  knows  it  is  true ! " 
vociferated  Alfred.  "And  if  anybody  here  doubts  it,  let  them 
ask  old  Hannah  Worth  if  her  nephew  isn't  a " 

"  Leave  the  room,  sir !  "  exclaimed  Walter,  interrupting  him 
before  he  could  add  another  word.  "  Your  language  and  man- 
ners are  so  offensive  as  to  render  your  presence  entirely  inad- 
missible here !     Leave  the  room,  instantly !  " 

"1  won't!"  said  Alfred  stoutly. 

Walter  was  unwilling  to  release  Ishmael  from  the  tight,  haK- 
friendly,  half -masterly  embrace  in  which  he  held  him;  else, 
perhaps,  he  might  himself  have  ejected  the  offender.  As  it  was, 
he  grimly  repeated  his  demand. 

"  Will  you  leave  the  room  ?  " 

"  No !  "  replied  Alfred. 

"  James,  do  me  the  favor  to  ring  the  bell." 

James  Middleton  rang  a  peal  that  brought  old  Jovial  quickly 
to  the  room. 

"  Jovial,  will  you  go  and  ask  your  master  if  he  will  be  kind 
enough  to  come  here;  his  presence  is  very  much  needed,"  said 
Walter. 

Jovial  bowed  and  withdrew. 

"I  shall  go  and  complain  to  my  father  of  the  insults  I  have 
received !  "  said  Alfred,  turning  to  leave  the  room ;  for  he  had 
evidently  no  wish  to  meet  the  impending  interview  with  Mr. 
Middleton. 

''  "  I  anticipated  that  you  would  reconsider  your  resolution  of 
remaining  here ! "  laughed  Walter,  as  he  let  this  sarcasm  off 
after  his  retreating  foe. 

He  had  scarcely  disappeared  through  one  door  before  Mr. 
Middleton  entered  at  another. 

"  What  is  all  this  about,  Walter  ? "  he  inquired,  approaching 
the  group  of  panic-stricken  girls  and  wondering  boys. 

"  Some  new  rudeness  of  Alfred  Burghe,  father ;  but  he  has 
just  taken  himself  off,  for  which  I  thank  him;  so  there  is  no 


ISHMAEL   HEAKS    A    SECRET    FllOM    AN   ENEMY.       273 

use  in  saying  more  upon  the  subject  for  the  present,"  replied 
Walter. 

"  There  is  no  use,  in  any  case,  to  disturb  the  harmony  of  a 
festive  evening,  my  son;  all  complaints  may  well  be  deferred 
until  the  morning,  when  I  shall  be  ready  to  hear  them,"  replied 
Mr.  Middleton,  smiling,  and  never  suspecting  how  serious  the 
offense  of  Alfred  Burghe  had  been. 

"  And  now,"  he  continued,  turning  towards  the  band, 
"  strike  up  the  music,  professor !  The  summer  evenings  are 
short,  and  the  young  people  must  make  the  most  of  this  one- 
Walter,  my  son,  you  are  to  open  the  ball  with  your  cousin." 

"  Thank  you  very  much,  uncle ;  thank  you,  Walter,  but  my 
hand  is  engaged  for  this  set  to  Ishmael  Worth;  none  but  the 
winner  of  the  first  prize  for  me !  "  said  Claudia  gayly,  veiling 
the  kindness  that  prompted  her  to  favor  the  mortified  youth 
under  a  sportive  assumption  of  vanity. 

"  Very  well,  then,  where  is  the  hero  ? "  said  Mr.  Middleton. 

But  Ishmael  had  suddenly  disappeared,  and  was  nowhere  to 
be  found. 

"  Where  is  he,  Walter  ?  He  was  standing  by  you,"  said 
Claudia. 

"  I  had  ray  arm  around  him  to  prevent  mischief,  and  I  re- 
leased him  only  an  instant  since;  but  he  seems  to  have  slipped 
away,"  answered  Walter,  in  surprise. 

"  He  ha.*  gone  after  Alfred !  and  there  will  be  mischief  done ; 
and  no  o»e  could  blame  Ishmael  if  there  was ! "  exclaimed 
Claudia. 

"  It  was  young  Worth,  then,  that  Burghe  assailed? "  inquired 
Mr.  Middleton. 

"  Yes,  uncle !  and  if  Mr.  Burghe  is  permitted  to  come  to  the 
house  after  his  conduct  this  evening,  I  really  shall  feel  com- 
pelled to  ^rite  to  my  father,  and  request  him  to  remove  me,  for 
I  cannot,  indeed,  indeed,  I  cannot  expose  myself  to  the  shock 
of  hearing  such  language  as  he  has  dared  to  use  in  my  presence 
this  evening !  "  said  Claudia  excitedly. 

"  Compose  yourself,  my  dear  girl ;  he  will  not  trouble  us  after 
this  e-f'ening;  he  does  not  return  to  school  after  the  vacation; 
he  gofts  to  West  Point,"  said  her  uncle. 

"  And  where  I  hope  the  discipline  A/ill  be  strict  enough  to 
keep  him  in  order !  "  exclaimed  Claudia. 

"  But  now  someone  must  go  after  Ishmael.  Eing  for  Jovial, 
"J^^iter." 


274  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

"  Father,  old  Jovial  will  be  too  slow.  Had  I  not  better  go 
myself  ? "  asked  Walter,  seizing  his  hat. 

Mr.  Middleton  assented,  and  the  young  man  went  out  on  his 
quest. 

He  hunted  high  and  low,  but  found  no  trace  of  Ishmael.  He 
found,  however,  what  set  his  mind  at  ease  upon  the  subject  of 
a  collision  between  the  youths;  it  was  the  form  of  Alfred 
Burghe,  stretched  at  length  upon  the  thick  and  dewy  grass. 

"  Why  do  you  lie  there  ?  You  will  take  cold.  Get  up  and  go 
home,"  said  Walter,  pitying  his  discomfiture  and  loneliness; 
for  the  generous  are  compassionate  even  to  the  evil  doer. 

Alfred  did  not  condescend  to  reply. 

"  Get  up,  I  say ;  you  will  take  cold,"  persisted  Walter. 

"  I  don't  care  if  I  do !  I  had  as  lief  die  as  not !  I  have  uo 
friends!  nobody  cares  for  me,"  exclaimed  the  unhappy  youth, 
in  the  bitterness  of  spirit  common  to  those  who  have  brought 
their  troubles  upon  themselves. 

"  If  you  would  only  reform  your  manners,  Alfred,  yotS 
would  find  friends  enough,  from  the  Creator,  who  only  requires 
of  you  that  '  you  cease  to  do  evil  and  learn  to  do  well,'  down  to 
the  humblest  of  his  creatures — down  to  that  poor  boy  whom 
you  so  heartlessly  insulted  to-night;  but  whose  generous  nature 
would  bear  no  lasting  malice  against  you,"  said  Walter  gravely. 

"  It  is  deuced  hard,  though,  to  see  a  fellow  like  that  taking  the 
shine  out  of  us  all,"  grumbled  Alfred. 

"ISTo,  it  isn't!  it  is  glorious,  glorious  indeed,  to  see  a  pool? 
youth  like  that  struggling  up  to  a  higher  life — as  he  is  strug- 
gling. He  won  the  prize  from  me,  me,  his  senior  in  age  and 
in  the  school,  and  my  heart  bums  with  admiration  for  the  boy 
when  I  think  of  it!  How  severely  he  must  have  striven  to 
have  attained  such  proficiency  in  these  three  years.  How 
hard  he  must  have  studied;  how  much  of  temptation  to  idle- 
ness he  must  have  resisted;  how  much  of  youthful  recreation, 
and  even  of  needful  rest,  he  must  have  constantly  denied  him- 
self ;  not  once  or  twice,  but  for  months  and  years !  Think  of 
it!  He  has  richly  earned  all  the  success  he  has  had.  Do  not 
envy  him  his  honors,  at  least  until  you  have  emulated  his 
heroism,"  said  Walter,  with  enthusiasm. 

"I  think  I  will  go  home,"  said  Alfred,  to  whom  the  praises 
of  his  rival  was  not  the  most  attractive  theme  in  the  world. 

"  You  may  return  with  me  to  the  house  now,  if  you  please, 
since  my  friend  Ishmael  has  gone  home.    Keep  out  of  the  way. 


AT  nis  mother's  grave.  275 

of  Miss  Merlin,  and  no  one  else  will  interfere  -with  you,"  said 
Walter,  who,  when  not  roused  to  indignation,  had  all  his  father's 
charity  for  "  miserable  "  sinners. 

Alfred  hesitated  for  a  minute,  looking  towards  the  house, 
where  the  light  windows  and  pealing  music  of  the  drawing 
room  proved  an  attraction  too  strong  for  his  pride  to  resist. 
Crestfallen  and  sheepish,  he  nevertheless  returned  to  the  scene 
of  festivity,  where  the  young  people  were  now  all  engaged  in 
dancing,  and  where,  after  a  while,  they  all  with  the  happy 
facility  of  youth  forgot  his  rudeness  and  drew  him  into  their 
sports.  All  except  Claudia,  who  would  have  nothing  on  earth 
to  say  to  him,  and  Beatrice,  who,  though  ignorant  of  his  assault 
upon  Ishmael,  obeyed  the  delicate  instincts  of  her  nature  that 
warned  her  to  avoid  him. 

On  observing  the  return  of  Alfred,  Mr.  Middleton  took  the 
first  opportunity  of  saying  to  his  son: 

"  I  see  that  you  have  brought  Burghe  back." 

"Yes,  father;  since  Ishmael  is  not  here  to  be  pained  by  his 
presence,  I  thought  it  better  to  bring  him  back;  for  I  remem- 
bered your  words  spoken  of  him  on  a  former  occasion :  '  That 
kindness  will  do  more  to  reform  such  a  nature  as  his  than  reprc 
bation  could.' " 

"  Yes — very  true !     But  poor  Ishmael !     Where  is  he  ? " 

Aye!  where,  indeed? 

CBAPTER   XXXn. 

AT  HIS  mother's  GRAVE. 

He  Reea  her  lone  headstone, 

'Tis  white  as  a  shroud; 
Like  a  pall  hangs  above  it 

The  low,  drooping  cloud. 

"Tis  well  that  the  white  ones 

Who  bore  her  to  bliss, 
Shut  out  from  her  new  life 

The  sorrows  of  this. 

Else  sure  as  he  stands  here, 

And  speaks  of  Iiis  love, 
She  would  leave  for  his  darkness 

Her  glory  above. 

—K  E.  Whittier. 

Giddy,  faint,  reeling  from  the  shock  he  had  received,  Ish- 
mael tottered  from  the  gay  and  lighted  rooms  and  sought  the 
darkness  and  the  coolness  of  the  night  without. 


276  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

He  leaned  against  the  great  elm  tree  on  the  lawn,  and  wiped 
the  beaded  sweat  from  his  brow. 

"It  is  not  true,"  he  said.  "I  know  it  is  not  true!  Walter 
said  it  was  false;  and  I  would  stake  my  soul  that  it  is.  My 
dear  mother  is  an  angel  in  heaven;  I  am  certain  of  that;  for  I 
have  seen  her  in  my  dreams  ever  since  I  can  remember.  But 
yet — but  yet — why  did  they  all  recoil  from  me?  Even  she — 
even  Claudia  Merlin  shrank  from  me  as  from  something  un- 
clean and  contaminating,  when  Alfred  called  me  that  name. 
If  they  had  not  thought  there  was  some  truth  in  the  charge, 
would  they  all  have  recoiled  from  me  so?  Would  she  have 
shrunk  from  me  as  if  I  had  had  the  plague  ?  Oh,  no  !  Oh,  no ! 
And  then  Aunt  Hannah!  Why  does  she  act  so  very  strangely 
■when  I  ask  her  about  my  parents?  If  I  ask  her  about  my 
father  she  answers  me  with  a  blow.  If  I  ask  her  about  my 
mother,  she  answers  that  my  mother  was  a  saint  on  earth  and 
is  now  an  angel  in  heaven.  Oh!  I  do  not  need  to  be  told  that; 
I  know  it  already.  I  always  knew  it  of  my  dear  mother.  But 
to  only  know  it  no  longer  satisfies  me;  I  must  have  the  means 
of  proving  it.  And  to-night,  yes,  to-night.  Aunt  Hannah,  be 
fore  either  of  us  sleep,  you  shall  tell  me  all  that  you  know  o£ 
my  angel  mother  and  my  unknown  father." 

And  having  recovered  his  severely  shaken  strength,  Ishmael 
left  the  grounds  of  Brudenell  Hall  and  struck  into  the  narrow 
foot-path  leading  down  the  heights  and  through  the  valley  to 
the  Hut  hill. 

Hannah  was  seated  alone,  enjoying  her  solitary  cup  of  tea, 
when  Ishmael  opened  the  door  and  entered. 

"  What,  my  lad,  have  you  come  back  so  early  ?  I  did  not 
think  the  ball  would  have  been  over  before  twelve  or  one  o'clock, 
and  it  is  not  ten  yet;  but  I  suppose,  being  a  school  ball,  it  broke 
up  early.  Did  you  get  any  premiums?  How  many  did  you 
get?"  inquired  Hannah,  heaping  question  upon  question  with- 
out waiting  for  reply,  as  was  her  frequent  custom. 

Ishmael  drew  a  chair  to  the  other  side  of  the  table  and  sunk 
heavily  into  it. 

"  You  are  tired,  poor  fellow,  and  no  wonder !  I  dare  3ay,  for 
all  the  good  things  you  got  at  the  ball,  that  a  cup  of  tea  will 
do  you  no  harm,"  said  Hannah,  pouring  out  and  handing  him 
one. 

Ishmael  took  it  v^sarily  and  sat  it  by  his  side. 

"  And  now  tell  me  about  the  premiums,"  continued  his  aunt. 


AT   HIS    mother's    GRAVE.  277 

"I  got  the  first  premium  in  belles-lettres,  aunt;  and  it  was 
Hallam's  '  History  of  Literature.'  And  I  got  the  first  in  lan- 
guages, which  was  Irving's  '  Life  of  Washington ' — two  very 
valuable  works.  Aunt  Hannah,  that  will  be  treasures  to  me  all 
my  life." 

"Why  do  you  sigh  so  heavily,  my  boy?  are  you  so  tired  as 
all  that?  But  one  would  think,  as  well  as  you  love  books, 
those  fine  ones  would  'liven  you  up.  Where  are  they  ?  Let  me 
see  them." 

"  I  left  them  at  the  school.  Aunt  Hannah.  I  will  go  and 
fetch  them  to-morrow." 

"  There's  that  sigh  again !  What  is  the  matter  with  you, 
child  ?     Are  you  growing  lazy  ?     Who  got  the  gold  medal  ?  " 

"  It  wasn't  a  medal.  Aunt  Hannah.  Mr.  Middleton  wanted 
to  give  something  useful  as  well  as  costly  for  the  first  prize; 
and  he  said  a  medal  was  of  no  earthly  use  to  anybody,  so  he 
made  the  prize  a  gold  watch  and  chain." 

"But  who  got  it?" 

"  I  did,  aunt ;  there  it  is,"  said  Ishmael,  taking  the  jewel 
from  his  neck  and  laying  it  on  the  table. 

"  Oh !  what  a  beautiful  watch  and  chain !  and  all  pure  gold ! 
real  yellow  guinea  gold !  This  must  be  worth  almost  a  hun- 
dred dollars !  Oh,  Ishmael,  we  never  had  anything  like  this  in 
the  house  before.  I  am  so  much  afraid  somebody  might  break 
in  and  steal  it !  "  exclaimed  Hannah,  her  admiration  and  delight 
at  sight  of  the  rich  prize  immediately  modified  by  the  cares  and 
fears  that  attend  the  possession  of  riches. 

Ishmael  did  not  reply;  but  Hannah  went  on  reveling  in  the 
sight  of  the  costly  bauble,  until,  happening  to  look  up,  she  saw 
that  Ishmael,  instead  of  drinking  his  tea,  sat  with  his  head 
drooped  upon  his  hand  in  sorrowful  abstraction. 

"  There  you  are  again !  There  is  no  satisfying  some  people. 
One  would  think  you  would  be  as  happy  as  a  king  with  all  your 
prizes.  But  there  you  are  moping.  What  is  the  matter  with 
you,  boy  ?     Why  don't  you  drink  your  tea  ?  " 

"  Aunt  Hannah,  you  drink  your  own  tea,  and  when  you  have 
^one  it  I  will  have  a  talk  with  you." 

"  Is  it  anything  particular  ?  " 

"  Very  particular,  Aunt  Hannah ;  but  I  will  not  enter  upon 
ihe  subject  now,"  said  Ishmael,  raising  his  cup  to  his  lips  to 
prevent  further  questionings. 

But  when  the  tea  was  over  and  the  table  cleared  away,  Ish- 


278  ISHMAEL ;  on,  tint  the  depths. 

mael  took  the  hand  of  his  aunt  and  drew  her  towards  the  door, 
saying : 

"  Aunt  Hannah,  I  want  you  to  go  with  me  to  my  mother's 
grave.  It  will  not  hurt  you  to  do  so;  the  night  is  beautiful, 
clear  and  dry,  and  there  is  no  dew." 

Wondering  at  the  deep  gravity  of  his  words  and  manner, 
Hannah  allowed  him  to  draw  her  out  of  the  house  and  up  the 
hill  behind  it  to  Nora's  grave  at  the  foot  of  the  old  oak  tree. 
It  was  a  fine,  bright,  starlight  night,  and  the  rough  headstone, 
rudely  fashioned  and  set  up  by  the  professor,  gleamed  whitely 
out  from  the  long  shadowy  grass. 

Ishmael  sank  down  upon  the  ground  beside  the  grave,  put 
his  arms  around  the  headstone,  and  for  a  space  bowed  his  head. 

Hannah  seated  herself  upon  a  fragment  of  rock  near  him. 
!But  both  remained  silent  for  a  few  minutes. 

It  was  Hannah  who  broke  the  spell. 

"  Ishmael,  my  dear,"  she  said,  "  why  have  you  drawn  me  out 
here,  and  what  have  you  to  say  to  me  of  such  a  serious  nature 
that  it  can  be  uttered  only  here  ? " 

But  Ishmael  still  was  silent — being  bowed  down  with  thought 
or  grief. 

Reflect  a  moment,  reader:  At  this  very  instant  of  time  his 
enemy — he  who  had  plunged  him  in  this  grief — ^was  in  the 
midst  of  all  the  light  and  music  of  the  ball  at  Brudenell  Hall; 
but  could  not  enjoy  himself,  because  the  stings  of  conscience 
irritated  him,  and  because  the  frowns  of  Claudia  Merlin  chilled 
and  depressed  him. 

Ishmael  was  out  in  the  comparative  darkness  and  silence  o£ 
night  and  nature.  Yet  he,  too,  had  his  light  and  music — light 
and  music  more  in  harmony  with  his  mood  than  any  artificial 
substitutes  could  be;  he  had  the  holy  light  of  myriads  of  stars 
shining  down  upon  him,  and  the  music  of  myriads  of  tiny  in- 
sects sounding  around  him.  Mark  you  this,  dear  reader — in 
light  and  music  is  the  Creator  forever  worshiped  by  nature. 
When  the  sun  sets,  the  stars  shine;  and  when  the  birds  sleep, 
the  insects  sing! 

This  subdued  light  and  music  of  nature's  evening  worship 
suited  well  the  saddened  yet  exalted  mood  of  our  poor  boy.  He 
knew  not  what  was  before  him,  what  sort  of  revelation  he  was 
about  to  invoke,  but  he  knew  that,  whatever  it  might  be,  it 
should  not  shake  his  resolve,  "to  deal  justly,  love  mercy,  and 
walk  humbly  "  with  his  God. 


AT   HIS   mother's    GRAVE.  279 

Hannah  spoke  again: 

"  Ishmael,  will  you  answer  me — why  have  you  brought  me 
here?  What  have  you  to  say  to  me  so  serious  as  to  demand 
this  grave  for  the  place  of  its  hearing  ? " 

"  Aunt  Hannah,"  began  the  boy,  "  what  I  have  to  say  to  you 
is  even  more  solemn  than  your  words  import." 

"  Ishmael,  you  f I'ighten  me." 

"  ISTo,  no ;  there  is  no  cause  of  alarm." 

"  Why  don't  you  tell  me  what  has  brought  us  here,  then  ? " 

"  I  am  about  to  do  so,"  said  Ishmael  solemnly.  "  Aunt  Han- 
nah, you  have  often  told  me  that  she  whose  remains  lie  below 
lis  was  a  saint  on  earth  and  is  an  angel  in  heaven ! " 

"  Yes,  Ishmael.  I  have  told  you  so,  and  I  have  told  you 
truly." 

"  Aunt  Hannah,  three  years  ago  I  asked  you  who  was  my 
father.  You  replied  by  a  blow.  Well,  I  was  but  a  boy  then, 
and  so  of  course  you  must  have  thought  that  that  was  the  most 
judicious  answer  you  could  give.  But  now.  Aunt  Hannah,  T 
am  a  young  man,  and  I  demand  of  you.  Who  was  my  father  ? " 

"  Ishmael,  I  cannot  tell  you !  " 

With  a  sharp  cry  of  anguish  the  youth  sprang  up;  but  gov- 
erning his  strong  excitement  he  subsided  to  his  seat,  only  gasp- 
ing out  the  question : 

"  In  the  name  of  Heaven,  why  can  you  not  ? " 

Hannah's  violent  sobs  were  the  only  answer. 

"Aunt  Hannah!  I  know  this  much — that  your  name  is 
Hannah  Worth;  that  my  dear  mother  was  your  sister;  that  her 
name  was  Nora  Worth;  and  that  mine  is  Ishmael  Worth! 
Therefore  I  know  that  I  bear  yours  and  my  mother's  maiden 
name!  I  always  took  it  for  granted  that  my  father  belonged 
to  the  same  family;  that  he  was  a  relative,  perhaps  a  cousin  of 
my  mother,  and  that  he  bore  the  same  name,  and  therefore  did 
not  in  marrying  my  mother  give  her  a  new  one.  That  was 
what  I  always  thought.  Aunt  Hannah ;  was  I  Tight  ? " 

Hannah  sobbed  on  in  silence. 

"Aunt  Hannah!  by  my  mother's  grave,  I  adjure  you  to 
answer  me !     Was  I  right  ? " 

"  No,  Islmiael,  you  were  not !  "  wailed  Hannah. 

"  Then  I  do  not  bear  my  father's  name  ? " 

"  No." 

"But  only  my  poor  mother's?" 

«  Yes." 


280  isHMAEL ;  OE,  nr  the  depths. 

"  Oh,  Heaven !  how  is  that  ? " 

"  Because  you  have  no  legal  right  to  your  father's ;  because 
the  only  name  to  which  you  have  any  legal  right  is  your  poor, 
wronged  mother's ! " 

With  a  groan  that  seemed  to  rend  body  and  soul  asunder,  Ish- 
mael  threw  himself  upon  his  mother's  grave. 

"  You  said  she  was  an  angel !  And  I  know  that  she  was ! " 
he  cried,  as  soon  as  he  had  recovered  the  power  of  speech. 

"  I  said  truly,  and  you  know  the  tinath ! "  wept  Hannah. 

"  How,  then,  is  it,  that  I,  her  son,  cannot  bear  my  father's 
name  ? " 

"  Ishmael,  your  mother  was  the  victim  of  a  false  marriage!" 

Ishmael  sprang  up  from  his  recumbent  posture,  and  gazed 
at  his  aunt  with  a  fierceness  that  pierced  through  the  darkness. 

"  And  so  pure  and  proud  was  she,  that  the  discovery  broke 
her  heart ! " 

Ishmael  threw  himself  once  more  upon  the  grave,  and  clasp- 
ing the  mound  in  his  arms,  burst  into  a  passionate  flood  of 
tears,  and  wept  long  and  bitterly.  And,  after  a  while,  through 
this  shower  of  tears,  came  forth  in  gusty  sobs  these  words : 

"  Oh,  mother !  Oh,  poor,  young,  wronged,  and  broken- 
hearted mother!  sleep  in  peace;  for  your  son  lives  to  vindi- 
cate you.  Yes,  if  he  has  been  spared,  it  was  for  this  purpose — 
to  honor,  to  vindicate,  to  avenge  you !  "  And  after  these  words 
Lis  voice  was  again  lost  and  drowned  in  tears  and  sobs. 

Hannah  kneeled  down  beside  him,  took  his  hand,  and  tried 
to  raise  him,  saying: 

"  Ishmael,  my  love,  get  up,  dear !  There  was  no  wrong  done, 
no  crime  committed,  nothing  to  avenge.  Your  father  was  as 
guiltless  as  your  mother,  my  boy;  there  was  no  sin;  nothing 
from  first  to  last  but  great  misfortune.  Come  into  the  house, 
my  Ishmael,  and  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it." 

"  Yes ;  tell  me  all !  tell  me  every  particular ;  have  no  more 
concealments  from  me ! "  cried  Ishmael,  rising  to  follow  his 
aunt. 

"  I  will  not ;  but  oh,  my  boy !  gladly  would  I  have  kept  the 
sorrowful  story  concealed  from  you  forever,  but  that  I  know 
from  what  I  have  seen  of  you  to-night,  that  some  rude  tongue 
has  told  you  of  your  misfortune — and  told  you  wrong  besides !  " 
said  Hannah,  as  they  re-entered  the  hut. 

They  sat  down  beside  the  small  wood  fire  that  the  chill  night 
made  not  unwelcome,  even  in  August.    Hannah  sat  in  her  old 


AT  HIS  mother's  geave.  281 

arm-chair,  and  Ishmael  on  the  three-legged  stool  at  her  feet, 
with  his  head  in  her  lap.  And  there,  Avith  her  hand  caressing 
his  light  brown  hair,  Hannah  told  him  the  story  of  his  mother's 
love  and  suffering  and  death. 

At  some  parts  of  her  story  his  tears  gushed  forth  in  floods, 
and  his  sobs  shook  his  whole  frame.  Then  Hannah  would  be 
forced  to  pause  in  her  narrative,  until  he  had  regained  com- 
posure enough  to  listen  to  the  sequel. 

Hannah  told  him  all;  every  particular  with  which  the  reader 
is  already  acquainted;  suppressing  nothing  but  the  name  of  his 
miserable  father. 

At  the  close  of  the  sad  story  both  remained  silent  for  some 
time ;  the  deathly  stillness  of  the  room  broken  only  by  Ishmael's 
deep  sighs.    At  last,  however,  he  spoke: 

"  Aunt  Hannah,  still  you  have  not  told  me  the  name  of  him 
my  poor  mother  loved  so  fatally." 

"  Ishmael,  I  have  told  you  that  I  cannot ;  and  now  I  will  tell 
you  why  I  cannot." 

And  then  Hannah  related  the  promise  that  she  had  made  to 
lier  dying  sister,  never  to  expose  the  unhappy  but  guiltless  au- 
thor of  her  death. 

"  Poor  mother !  poor,  young,  broken-hearted  mother !  She 
was  not  much  older  than  I  am  now  when  she  died — was  she, 
Aunt  Hannah?" 

"  Scarcely  two  years  older,  my  dear." 

"  So  young !  "  sobbed  Ishmael,  dropping  his  head  again  upon 
Hannah's  knee,  and  bursting  into  a  tempest  of  grief. 

She  allowed  the  storm  to  subside  a  little,  and  then  said: 

"  Now,  my  Ishmael,  I  wish  you  to  tell  me  what  it  was  that 
sent  you  home  so  early  from  the  party,  and  in  such  a  sorrowful 
mood.  I  knew,  of  course,  that  something  must  have  been  said 
to  you  about  your  birth.     What  was  said,  and  who  said  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Hannah !  it  was  in  the  very  height  of  my  triumph 
that  I  was  struck  down !  I  was  not  proud.  Heaven  knows,  that 
I  should  have  had  such  a  fall !  I  was  not  proud — I  was  feeling 
rather  sad  upon  account  of  Walter's  having  missed  the  prize; 
and  I  was  thinking  how  hard  it  was  in  this  world  that  nobody 
could  enjoy  a  triumph  without  someone  else  suffering  a  morti- 
fication. I  was  thinking  and  feeling  so,  as  I  tell  you,  until 
Walter  came  up  and  talked  me  out  of  my  gloom.  And  then  all 
my  young  companions  were  doing  me  honor  in  their  way, 
when " 


282  ishmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

Ishmael's  voice  was  choked  for  a  moment;  but  with  an  effort 
he  regained  his  composure  and  continued,  though  in  a  broken 
and  faltering  voice: 

"Alfred  Burghe  left  the  group,  saying  that  I  was  not  a 
proper  companion  for  young  ladies  and  gentlemen.     And  when 

— she — Miss  Merlin,  angrily  demanded  why  I  was  not,  he 

Oh !  Aunt  Hannah !  "  Ishmael  suddenly  ceased  and  dropped  his 
face  into  his  hands. 

"  Compose  yourself,  my  dear  boy,  and  go  on,"  said  the 
weaver. 

"He  said  that  I  was  a No!  I  cannot  speak  the  word! 

I  cannot  I " 

"  A  young  villain !  If  ever  I  get  my  hands  on  him,  I  will 
give  him  as  good  a  broomsticking  as  ever  a  bad  boy  had  in  this 
world!  He  lied,  Ishmael!  You  are  not  what  he  called  you. 
You  are  legitimate  on  your  mother's  side,  because  she  believed 
herself  to  be  a  lawful  wife.  You  bear  her  name,  and  you  could 
lawfully  inherit  her  property,  if  she  had  left  any.  Tell  them 
that  when  they  insult  you !  "  exclaimed  Hannah  indignantly. 

"  Ah !  Aunt  Hannah,  they  would  not  believe  it  without 
proof!" 

"  True !  too  true !  and  we  cannot  prove  it,  merely  because 
your  mother  bound  me  by  a  promise  never  to  expose  the  bigamy 
of  your  father.  Oh,  Ishmael,  to  shield  him,  what  a  wrong  she 
did  to  herself  and  to  you ! "  wept  the  woman. 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Hannah,  do  not  blame  her !  she  was  so  good ! " 
said  this  loyal  son.  "  I  can  bear  reproach  for  myself,  but  I 
will  not  bear  it  for  her!  Say  anything  you  like  to  me,  dear 
Aunt  Hannah !  but  never  say  a  word  against  her !  " 

"  But,  poor  boy !  how  will  you  bear  the  sure  reproach  of  birth 
that  you  are  bound  to  hear  from  others?  Ah,  Ishmael,  you 
must  try  to  fortify  your  mind,  my  dear,  to  bear  much  unjust 
shame  in  this  world.  Ishmael,  the  brighter  the  sun  shines  the 
blacker  the  shadow  falls.  The  greater  your  success  in  the 
world,  the  bitterer  will  be  this  shame !  See,  my  boy,  it  was  in 
the  hour  of  your  youthful  triumph  that  this  reproach  was  first 
cast  in  your  face!  The  envious  are  very  mean,  my  boy.  Ah, 
how  will  you  answer  their  cruel  reproaches ! " 

"  I  will  tell  you,  Aunt  Hannah !  Let  them  say  what  they  like 
of  me ;  I  will  try  to  bear  with  them  patiently ;  but  if  any  man  or 

boy  utters  one  word  of  reproach  against  my  dear  mother '* 

The  boy  ceased  to  speak,  but  his  face  grew  lived. 


AT   niS    MOTIIEE'S    GRA^TE.  283 

*'  Now,  now,  wliat  would  you  do  ? "  exclaimed  Hannah,  in 
alarm. 

"  Make  him  recant  his  words,  or  silence  him  forever ! " 

"  Oh,  Ishmael !  Ishmael !  you  frighten  me  nearly  to  death  I 
Good  Heaven,  men  are  dreadful  creatures!  They  never  re- 
ceive an  injury  but  they  must  needs  think  of  slaying!  Oh, 
]fow  I  wish  you  had  been  a  girl!  Since  you  were  to  be,  how  I 
do  wish  you  had  been  a  girl!  Boys  are  a  dreadful  trial  and 
terror  to  a  lone  woman!  Oh,  Ishmael!  promise  me  you  won't 
do  anything  violent ! "  exclaimed  Hannah,  beside  herself  with 
terror, 

"  I  cannot.  Aunt  Hannah !  For  I  should  be  sure  to  break 
such  a  promise  if  the  occasion  offered.  Oh,  Aunt  Hannah !  you 
don't  know  all  my  mother  is  to  me!  You  don't!  You  think 
hecause  she  died  the  very  day  that  I  was  born  that  I  cannot 
know  anything  about  her  and  cannot  love  her;  but  I  tell  you^ 
Aunt  Hannah,  I  know  her  well!  and  I  love  her  as  much  as  if 
she  was  still  in  the  flesh.  I  have  seen  her  in  my  dreams  ever 
since  I  can  remember  anything.  Oh!  often,  when  I  was  veiy 
small  and  you  used  to  lock  me  up  alone  in  the  hut,  while  you 
went  away  for  all  day  to  Baymouth,  I  have  been  strangely 
soothed  to  sleep  and  then  I  have  seen  her  in  my  dreams ! " 

"  Ishmael,  you  rave !  " 

"ISTo,  I  don't;  I  will  prove  it  to  you,  that  I  see  my  mother. 
Listen,  now;  nobody  ever  described  her  to  me;  not  even  you; 
hut  I  will  tell  you  how  she  Jooks — she  is  tall  and  slender;  she 
has  a  very  fair  skin  and  very  long  black  hair,  and  nice  slender 
Hack  eyebrows  and  long  eyelashes,  and  large  dark  eyes — and 
she  smiles  with  her  eyes  only!  Now,  is  not  that  my  mother? 
For  that  is  the  form  that  I  see  in  my  dreams,"  said  Ishmael 
triumphantly,  and  for  the  moment  forgetting  his  grief. 

"  Yes,  that  is  like  what  she  was ;  but  of  course  you  must  have 
Leard  her  described  by  someone,  although  you  may  have  foi^- 
gotten  it.  Ishmael,  dear,  I  shall  pray  for  you  to-night,  that  all 
thoughts  of  vengeance  may  be  put  out  of  your  mind.  Now  let 
tis  go  to  bed,  my  child,  for  we  have  to  be  up  early  in  the  morn- 
ing.   And,  Ishmael  ? " 

"  Yes,  Aunt  Hannah." 

"  Do  you  also  pray  to  God  for  guidance  and  help." 

"  Aunt  Hannah,  I  always  do,"  said  the  boy,  as  he  bade  his 
relative  good-night  and  went  up  to  his  loft. 

Long  Ishmael  lay  tumbling  and  tossing  upon  his  restless  bed.- 


284  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

But  when  at  length  lie  fell  asleep  a  heavenly  dream  visited 
him. 

He  dreamed  that  his  mother,  in  her  celestial  robe,  stood  by 
Ms  bed  and  breathed  sweetly  forth  his  name: 

"  Ishmael,  my  son." 

And  in  his  dream  he  answered: 

*'  I  am  here,  mother." 

*'  Listen,  my  child :  Put  thoughts  of  vengeance  from  your 
soul!  In  this  strong  temptation  think  not  what  Washington, 
Jackson,  or  any  of  your  warlike  heroes  would  have  done;  think 
"what  the  Prince  of  Peace,  Christ,  would  have  done;  and  do 
thou  likewise ! "  And  so  saying,  the  heavenly  vision 
vanished. 

CHAPTER   XXXin. 

LOVE  AND  GENIUS. 

Her  face  was  shining  on  him ;  he  had  looked 
Upon  it  till  it  could  not  pass  away; 
He  had  no  breath,  no  being  but  in  hers; 
She  was  his  voice;  he  did  not  speak  to  her, 
But  trembled  on  her  words:  she  was  his  sight; 
Por  his  eye  followed  hers  and  saw  with  hers, 
Which  colored  aU  his  objects, 

— Byron. 

Early  the  next  morning  Ishmael  walked  over  to  Brudenell 
Hall  with  the  threefold  purpose  of  making  an  apology  for  his 
sudden  departure  from  the  ball;  taking  leave  of  the  family  for 
the  holidays;  and  bringing  home  the  books  he  had  won  as 
prizes. 

As  he  approached  the  house  he  saw  Mr.  Middleton  walking 
on  the  lawn. 

That  gentleman  immediately  advanced  to  meet  Ishmael, 
holding  out  his  hand,  and  saying,  with  even  more  than  his 
usual  kindness  of  manner: 

"  Good-morning,  my  dear  boy ;  you  quite  distinguished  your- 
self yesterday;  I  congratulate  you." 

"  I  thank  you,  sir ;  I  thank  you  very  much ;  but  I  fear  that 
I  was  guilty  of  great  rudeness  in  leaving  the  party  so  abruptly 
last  night;  but  I  hope,  when  you  hear  my  explanation,  you  will 
excuse  me,  sir,"  said  Ishmael,  deeply  flushing. 

]Mr.  Middleton  kindly  drew  the  boy's  arm  within  his  own, 
and  walked  him  away  from  the  house  down  a  shady  avenue  of 


LOVE   AND    GENIUS.  'ZS5 

elms,  and  wlien  they  had  got  quite  out  of  hearing  of  any  chance 
listener,  he  said  gravely: 

"  My  boy,  I  have  heard  the  facts  from  Walter,  and  I  do  not 
require  any  explanation  from  you.  I  hold  you  entirely  blame- 
less in  the  affair,  Ishmael,  and  I  can  only  express  my  deep  re- 
gret that  you  should  have  received  an  insult  while  under  my 
Toof.  I  trust,  Ishmael,  that  time  and  reflection  will  convince 
young  Burghe  of  his  great  error,  and  that  the  day  may  come 
■when  he  himself  will  seek  you  to  make  a  voluntary  apology  for 
Lis  exceeding  rudeness." 

Ishmael  did  not  reply;  his  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  ground, 
and  his  very  forehead  was  crimson.  Mr.  Middleton  saw  all 
this,  divined  his  thoughts,  and  so  gently  continued : 

"  You  will  be  troubled  no  more  with  Alfred  Burghe  or  his 
■weak  brother;  both  boys  left  this  morning;  Alfred  goes  to  the 
Military  Academy  at  West  Point;  Ben  to  the  Naval  School  at 
Annapolis ;  so  you  will  be  quite  free  from  annoyance  by  them." 

Still  Ishmael  hung  his  head,  and  Mr.  Middleton  added: 

"And  now,  my  young  friend,  do  not  let  the  recollection  o£ 
that  scapegrace's  words  trouble  you  in  the  slightest  degree. 
Let  me  assure  you,  that  no  one  who  knows  you,  and  whose  good 
opinion  is  worth  having,  will  ever  esteem  your  personal  merits 
less,  upon  account  of "  Mr.  Middleton  hesitated  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  said,  very  softly — "  your  poor,  unhappy  mother." 

Ishmael  sprang  aside,  and  groaned  as  if  he  had  received  a 
stab;  and  then  with  a  rush  of  emotion,  and  in  an  impassioned 
manner,  he  exclaimed: 

"My  poor,  unhappy  mother!  Oh,  sir,  you  have  used  the 
right  words!  She  was  very  poor  and  very  unhappy!  most  un- 
liappy;  but  not  weak!  not  foolish!  not  guilty!  Oh,  believe  it, 
sir!  believe  it,  Mr.  Middleton!  For  if  you  were  to  doubt  it,  I 
think  my  spirit  would  indeed  be  broken!  My  poor,  young 
m.other,  who  went  dowa  to  the  grave  when  she  was  but  little 
older  than  her  son  is  now,  was  a  pure,  good,  honorable  woman. 
She  was,  sir!  she  was!  and  I  will  prove  it  to  the  world  some 
day,  if  Heaven  only  lets  me  live  to  do  it!  Say  you  believe  it, 
Mr.  Middleton !     Oh,  say  you  believe  it !  " 

"I  do  believe  it,  my  boy,"  replied  Mr.  Middleton,  entirely 
carried  away  by  the  powerful  magnetism  of  Ishmael's  eager, 
earnest,  impassioned  manner. 

"Heaven  reward  you,  sir,"  sighed  the  youth,  subsiding  into 
the  modest  calmness  of  his  usual  deportment. 


286  ISIIMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

"How  do  you  intend  to  employ  your  holidays,  Islimael?" 
inquired  his  friend. 

"  By  continuing  my  studies  at  home,  sir,"  replied  the  youth. 

"  I  thought  so !  Well,  so  that  you  do  not  overwork  yourself, 
you  are  right  to  keep  them  up.  These  very  long  vacations  are 
made  for  the  benefit  of  the  careless  and  idle,  and  not  for  the 
earnest  and  industrious.  But,  Ishmael,  that  little  cot  of  yours 
is  not  the  best  place  for  your  purpose;  studies  can  scarcely  be 
pursued  favorably  where  household  work  is  going  on  con- 
stantly ;  so  I  think  you  had  better  come  here  every  day  as  usual, 
and  read  in  the  schoolroom.  Mr.  Brown  will  be  gone  certainly  ; 
but  I  shall  be  at  home,  and  ready  to  render  you  any  assistance." 

"  Oh,  sir,  how  shall  I  thank  you? "  joyfully  began  Ishmael. 

"By  just  making  the  best  use  of  your  opportunities  to  im- 
prove yourself,  my  lad,"  smiled  his  friend,  patting  him  on  the 
shoulder. 

"  But,  sir — in  the  vacation — it  will  give  you  trouble " 

"It  will  afford  me  pleasure,  Ishmael!  I  hope  you  can  take 
my  word  for  that  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Middleton !  Indeed  you — how  can  I  ever  prove 
myself  grateful  enough  ?  " 

"  By  simply  getting  on  as  fast  as  you  can,  boy !  as  I  told  you 
before.  And  let  me  tell  you  now,  that  there  is  good  reason, 
•why  you  should  now  make  the  best  possible  use  of  your  time; 
it  may  be  short." 

"Sir?"  questioned  Ishmael  in  perplexity  and  vague  alarm. 

"  I  should  rather  have  said  it  must  be  short !  I  will  explain. 
You  know  Mr.  Herman  Brudenell?" 

"Mr. — Herman — Brudenell,"  repeated  the  unconscious  son, 
slowly  and  thoughtfully;  then,  as  a  flash  of  intelligence  lighted 
up  his  face,  he  exclaimed :  "  Oh,  yes,  sir,  I  know  who  you  mean  ; 
the  young  gentleman  who  owas  Brudenell  Hall,  and  who  is 
now  traveling  in  Europe." 

"Yes!  but  he  is  not  such  a  very  young  gentleman  now;  he 
must  be  between  thirty-five  and  forty  years  of  age.  Well,  my 
l>oy,  you  know,  of  course,  that  he  is  my  landlord.  When  I 
rented  this  place,  I  took  it  by  the  year,  and  at  a  very  low  price, 
as  the  especial  condition  that  I  should  leave  it  at  six  months' 
warning.  Ishmael,  I  have  received  that  warning  this  morning. 
I  must  vacate  the  premises  on  the  first  of  next  February." 

Ishmael  looked  confounded.  "  Must  vacate  these  premises 
the  first  of  next  February,"  he  echoed,  in  a  very  dreary  voice. 


LOVE   AND    GENIUS.  287 

"Yes,  my  lad;  but  don't  look  so  utterly  sorrowful;  we  shall 
not  go  out  of  the  world,  or  even  out  of  the  State;  perhaps  not 
out  of  the  county,  Isinnael;  and  our  next  residence  will  be  a 
permanent  one;  I  shall  purchase,  and  not  rent,  next  time;  and 
I  shall  not  lose  sight  of  your  interests;  besides  the  parting  is 
six  months  off  yet;  so  look  up,  my  boy.  Bless  me,  if  I  had 
known  it  was  going  to  depress  you  in  this  way,  I  should  have 
delayed  the  communication  as  long  as  possible ;  in  fact,  my  only 
m.otive  for  making  it  now,  is  to  give  a  good  reason  why  you 
should  make  the  most  of  your  time  while  we  remain  here." 

"  Oh,  sir,  I  will ;  believe  me,  I  will ;  but  I  am  so  sorry  you  are 
ever  going  to  leave  us,"  said  the  boy,  with  emotion. 

"  Thank  you,  Ishmael ;  I  shall  not  forget  you ;  and  in  the 
meantime,  Mr.  Brudenell,  who  is  coming  back  to  the  Hall,  and 
is  a  gentleman  of  great  means  and  beneficence,  cannot  fail  to 
be  interested  in  you;  indeed,  I  myself  will  mention  you  to  him. 
And  now  come  in,  my  boy,  and  take  luncheon  with  us.  We 
breakfasted  very  early  this  morning  in  order  to  get  the  teachers 
off  in  time  for  the  Baltimore  boat;  and  so  we  require  an  early 
luncheon,"  said  Mr.  Middleton,  as  he  walked  his  young  friend 
off  to  the  house. 

Mrs.  Middleton  and  all  her  children  and  Claudia  were  al- 
ready seated  around  the  table  in  the  pleasant  morning  room, 
where  all  the  windows  were  open,  admitting  the  free  summer 
breezes,  the  perfume  of  flowers,  and  the  songs  of  birds. 

The  young  people  started  up  and  rushed  towards  Ishmael ;  for 
their  sympathies  were  with  him;  and  all  began  speaking  at 
once. 

"  Oh,  Ishmael !  why  did  you  disappoint  me  of  dancing  with 
the  best  scholar  in  the  school?"  asked  Claudia. 

"  What  did  you  run  away  for  ? "  demanded  James. 

"  I  wouldn't  have  gone  for  him,"  said  John. 

"  Oh,  Ishmael,  it  was  such  a  pleasant  party,"  said  little 
Panny. 

"  Alf  was  a  bad  boy,"  said  Baby  Sue. 

"  It  was  very  impolite  in  you  to  run  away  and  leave  me  when 
I  was  your  partner  in  the  first  quadrille !  I  do  not  see  why  you 
should  have  disappointed  me  for  anything  that  fellow  could 
Lave  said  or  done !  "  exclaimed  Claudia. 

As  all  were  speaking  at  once  it  was  quite  impossible  to  an- 
swer either,  so  Ishmael  looked  in  embarrassment  from  one  to 
the  other. 


288  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN   THE    DEPTHS. 

Bee  had  not  spoken;  she  was  spreading  butter  on  thin  slices 
of  bread  for  her  baby  sisters;  but  now,  seeing  Ishmael's  per- 
plexity, she  whispered  to  her  mother: 

"  Call  them  off,  mamma  dear ;  they  mean  well ;  but  it  must 
hurt  his  feelings  to  be  reminded  of  last  night." 

Mrs.  Middleton  thought  so  too;  so  she  arose  and  went  for- 
ward and  offered  Ishmael  her  hand,  saying : 

"  Good-morning,  my  boy ;  I  am  glad  to  see  you ;  draw  up  your 
chair  to  the  table.  Children,  take  your  places.  Mr.  Middle- 
ton,  we  have  been  waiting  for  you." 

"  I  know  you  have,  my  dear,  but  cold  lunch  don't  grow  colder 
by  standing;  if  it  does,  so  much  the  better  this  warm  weather." 

"  I  have  been  taking  a  walk  with  my  young  friend  here,"  said 
the  gentleman,  as  he  took  his  seat. 

Ishmael  followed  his  example,  but  not  before  he  had  quietly 
shaken  hands  with  Beatrice. 

At  luncheon  Mr.  Middleton  spoke  of  his  plan,  that  Ishmael 
should  come  every  day  during  the  holidays  to  pursue  his  studies 
as  usual  in  the  schoolroom. 

"  You  know  he  cannot  read  to  any  advantage  in  the  little 
room  where  Hannah  is  always  at  work,"  explained  Mr.  Middle- 
ton. 

"  Oh,  no !  certainly  not,"  agreed  his  wife. 

The  family  were  all  pleased  that  Ishmael  was  still  to  come. 

"  But,  my  boy,  I  think  you  had  better  not  set  in  again  until 
Monday.  A  few  days  of  mental  rest  is  absolutely  necessary 
after  the  hard  reading  of  the  last  few  months.  So  I  enjoin  you 
aiot  to  open  a  classbook  before  next  Monday." 

As  Mrs.  Middleton  emphatically  seconded  this  move,  our 
hoy  gave  his  promise  to  refrain,  and  after  luncheon  was  over 
he  went  and  got  his  books,  took  a  respectful  leave  of  his  friends 
and  returned  home. 

"Aunty,"  he  said,  as  he  entered  the  hut,  where  he  found 
Hannah  down  on  her  knees  scrubbing  the  floor,  "  what  do  you 
think?  Mr.  Middleton  and  his  family  are  going  away  from  the 
Hall.  They  have  had  warning  to  quit  at  the  end  of  six 
months." 

"  Ah,"  said  Hannah  indifferently,  going  on  with  her  work. 

"Yes;  they  leave  on  the  first  of  February,  and  the  owner 
of  the  place,  young  Mr.  Herman  Brudenell,  you  know,  is  com- 
ing on  to  live  there  for  good !  " 

*'  Ah  I "  cried  Hannah,  no  longer  indifferently,  but  excitedly. 


LOVE   AND    GENIUS.  28^ 

as  she  left  off  scrubbing,  and  fixed  her  keen  black  eyes  upoa 
the  boy. 

"  Yes,  indeed !  and  Mr.  Middleton — oh,  he  is  so  kind — says  he 
will  mention  me  to  Mr.  Herman  Brudenell." 

"  Oh!  will  he?  "  exclaimed  Hannah,  between  her  teeth. 

"  Yes ;  and — Mr.  Herman  Brudenell  is  a  very  kind  gentle- 
man, is  he  not  ?  " 

"  Very,"  muttered  Hannah- 

"  You  were  very  well  acquainted  with  him,  were  you  not  ? " 

"  Yes." 

"  You  answer  so  shortly.  Aunt  Hannah.  Didn't  you  like 
young  Mr.  Herman  Brudenell  ?  " 

"  I — don't  know  whether  I  did  or  not ;  but,  Ishmael,  I  can't 
scrub  and  talk  at  the  same  time.  Go  out  and  chop  me  some 
wood;  and  then  go  and  dig  some  potatoes,  and  beets,  and  cut  a 
cabbage — a  white-head  mind !  and  then  go  to  the  spring  and 
bring  a  bucket  of  water;  and  make  haste;  but  don't  talk  to  me 
any  more,  if  you  can  help  it." 

Ishmael  went  out  immediately  to  obey,  and  as  the  sound  o£ 
his  ax  was  heard   Hannah  muttered  to  herself: 

"  Herman  Brudenell  coming  back  to  the  Hall  to  live !  "  And 
she  fell  into  deep  thought. 

Ishmael  was  intelligent  enough  to  divine  that  his  Aunt 
Hannah  did  not  wish  to  talk  of  Mr.  Herman  Brudenell. 

"  Some  old  grudge,  connected  with  their  relations  as  landlord 
and  tenant,  I  suppose,"  said  Ishmael  to  himself.  And  as  he 
chopped  away  at  the  wood  he  resolved  to  avoid  in  her  presence 
the  objectionable  name. 

The  subject  was  not  mentioned  between  the  aunt  and  nephew 
again.  Ishmael  assisted  her  in  preparing  their  late  afternoon 
meal  of  dinner  and  supper  together,  and  then,  when  the  room, 
was  made  tidy  and  Hannah  was  seated  at  her  evening  sewing,. 
Ishmael,  for  a  treat,  showed  her  his  prize  books ;  at  which  Han- 
nah was  so  pleased,  that  she  went  to  bed  and  dreamed  that  night 
that  Ishmael  had  risen  to  the  distinction  of  being  a  country 
schoolmaster. 

The  few  days  of  mental  rest  that  Mr.  Middleton  had  en- 
joined upon  the  young  student  were  passed  by  Ishmael  in  hard 
manual  labor  that  did  him  good.  Among  his  labors,  as  he  had 
now  several  valuable  books,  he  fitted  up  some  book  shelves  over 
the  little  low  window  of  his  loft,  and  under  the  window  he  fixed 
a  sloping  board,  that  would  serve  him  for  a  writing-desk. 


290  iskmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 


CHATER  XXXIV. 

UNDER  THE  OLD  ELM  TREK. 

She  was  his  life, 
The  ocean  to  the  river  of  his  thoughts, 
Which  termiuated  all;  upou  a  tone, 
A  touch  of  hers,  hia  blood  would  ebb  and  flow, 
And  his  cheek  change  tempestuously — his  heart 
Unknowing  of  its  cause  of  agony. 

— Byron. 

On  Monday  morning  he  resumed  his  attendance  at  Brudenell 
Hall.  He  was  received  very  kindly  by  the  family,  and  per- 
mitted to  go  up  to  the  empty  schoolroom  and  take  his  choice 
among  all  the  vacant  seats,  and  to  make  the  freest  use  of  the 
school  library,  maps,  globes,  and  instiniments. 

Ishmael  moved  his  own  desk  up  under  one  of  the  delightful 
■windows,  and  there  he  sat  day  after  day  at  hard  study.  He 
did  not  trouble  Mr.  Middleton  much;  whenever  it  was  possible 
to  do  so  by  any  amount  of  labor  and  thought,  he  puzzled  out 
all  his  problems  and  got  over  all  his  difficulties  alone. 

He  kept  up  the  old  school  hours;  punctually,  and  exactly  at 
noon,  he  laid  aside  his  books  and  went  out  on  the  lavrai  for  an 
hour's  recreation  before  lunch. 

There  he  often  met  his  young  friends,  and  always  saw 
Claudia.  It  was  Miss  Merlin's  good  pleasure  to  approve  and 
encourage  this  poor  but  gifted  youth ;  and  she  took  great  credit 
to  herself  for  her  condescension.  She  seemed  to  herself  like 
some  high  and  mighty  princess  graciously  patronizing  some 
deserving  young  peasant.  She  often  called  him  to  her  side; 
interested  himself  in  his  studies  and  in  his  health,  praised  his 
assiduity,  but  warned  him  not  to  confine  himself  too  closely  to 
Lis  books,  as  ambitious  students  had  been  known  before  now  to 
sacrifice  their  lives  to  the  pursuit  of  an  unattainable  fame. 
She  told  him  that  she  meant  to  interest  her  father  in  his  for- 
tunes; and  that  she  hoped  in  another  year  the  judge  would  be 
able  to  procure  for  him  the  situation  of  usher  in  some  school, 
or  tutor  in  some  family.  Although  she  was  younger  than  Ish- 
mael, yet  her  tone  and  manner  in  addressing  him  was  that  of 
an  elder  as  well  as  of  a  superior;  and  blended  the  high  au- 
thority of  a  young  queen  with  the  deep  tenderness  of  a  little 
mother.  For  instance,  when  he  would  come  out  at  noon,  she 
woidd  often  beckon  him  to  her  side,  as  she  sat  in  her  garden 


Uia)ER    THE    OLD    ELM    TEEE.  291 

chair,  under  the  shadow  of  the  great  elm  tree,  with  a  hook  of 
poetry  or  a  piece  of  needle-work  in  her  hands.  And  when  he 
came,  she  would  make  him  sit  down  on  the  grass  at  her  feet, 
and  she  would  put  her  small,  white  hand  on  his  burning  fore- 
head, and  look  in  his  face  with  her  beautiful,  dark  eyes,  and 
murmur  softly: 

"  Poor  boy ;  your  he^d  aches ;  I  know  it  does.  You  have 
been  sitting  under  the  blazing  sun  in  that  south  window  of  the 
schoolroom,  so  absorbed  in  your  studies  that  you  forgot  to  close 
your  shutters." 

And  she  would  take  a  vial  of  eau-de-cologne  from  her  pocket, 
pour  a  portion  of  it  upon  a  handkerchief,  and  with  her  own 
fair  hand  bathe  his  heated  brows;  at  the  same  time  adminis- 
tering a  queenly  reprimand,  or  a  motherly  caution,  as  pride  or 
tenderness  happened  to  predominate  in  her  capricious  mood. 

This  royal  or  maternal  manner  in  this  beautiful  girl  would 
not  have  attracted  the  hearts  of  most  men ;  but  Ishmael,  at  the 
age  of  seventeen,  was  yet  too  young  to  feel  that  haughty  pride 
of  full-grown  manhood  which  recoils  from  the  patronage  of 
women,  and  most  of  all  from  that  of  the  woman  they  love. 

To  him,  this  proud  and  tender  interest  for  his  welfare  added 
a  greater  and  more  perilous  fascination  to  the  charms  of  his 
beautifiJ  love;  it  drew  her  nearer  to  him;  it  allowed  him  to 
worship  her,  though  mutely ;  it  permitted  him  to  sit  at  her  feet, 
and  in  that  attitude  do  silent  homage  to  her  as  his  queen; 
it  permitted  him  to  receive  the  cool  touch  of  her  fingers  on  his 
heated  brow;  to  hear  the  soft  murmur  of  her  voice  close  to  his 
ear;  to  meet  the  sweet  questioning  of  her  eyes. 

And,  oh,  the  happiness  of  sitting  at  her  feet,  under  the  green 
shadows  of  that  old  elm  tree!  The  light  touch  of  her  soft  fin- 
gers on  his  brow  thrilled  him  to  his  heart's  core;  the  sweet 
sound  of  her  voice  in  his  ears  filled  his  soul  with  music;  the 
earnest  gaze  of  her  beautiful  dark  eyes  sent  electric  shocks  of 
joy  through  all  his  sensitive  frame. 

Ishmael  was  intensely  happy.  This  earth  was  no  longer  a 
commonplace  world,  filled  with  commonplace  beings;  it  was  a 
paradise  peopled  with  angels. 

Did  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Middleton  fear  no  harm  in  the  close  inti- 
macy of  this  gifted  boy  of  seventeen  and  this  beautiful  girl  of 
sixteen  ? 

Indeed,  no !  They  believed  the  proud  heiress  looked  upon 
the  peasant  boy  merely  as  her  protege,  her  pet,  her  fine,  inteUi* 


292  ishimael;  oe,  iisr  the  depths. 

gent  dog !  they  believed  Claudia  secure  in  her  pride  and  Ishmael 
absorbed  in  his  studies.  They  were  three-quarters  right,  which 
is  as  near  the  correct  thing  as  you  can  expect  imperfect  humau 
nature  to  approach;  that  is,  they  were  wholly  right  as  to 
Claudia  and  half  right  as  to  Ishmael.  Claudia  was  secure  in, 
her  pride;  and  half  of  Ishmael's  soul — the  mental  half — was 
absorbed  in  his  studies;  his  mind  was  given  to  his  books;  but 
his  heart  was  devoted  to  Claudia.  And  in  this  double  occupa- 
tion there  was  no  discord,  but  the  most  perfect  harmony. 

But  though  Claudia,  whom  he  adored,  was  his  watchful 
patroness.  Bee,  whom  he  only  loved,  was  his  truest  friend. 
Claudia  would  warn  him  against  danger ;  but  Bee  would  silently 
save  him  from  it.  While  Claudia  would  be  administering  a, 
queenly  rebuke  to  the  ardent  young  student  for  exposing  him- 
self to  a  sunstroke  by  reading  under  the  blazing  sun  in  an  open 
south  window.  Bee,  without  saying  a  word,  would  go  quietly 
into  the  schoolroom,  close  the  shutters  of  the  sunny  windows, 
and  open  those  of  the  shady  ones,  so  that  the  danger  might 
not  recur  in  the  afternoon. 

In  September  the  school  was  regularly  reopened  for  the  re- 
ception of  the  day  pupils.  Their  parents  were  warned,  however, 
that  this  was  to  be  the  last  term;  that  the  school  must  neces- 
sarily be  broken  up  at  Christmas,  as  the  house  must  be  given 
up  on  the  first  of  February.  The  return  of  the  pupils,  although 
they  filled  the  schoolroom  during  study  hours,  and  made  the 
lawn  a  livelier  scene  during  recess,  did  not  in  the  least  degree 
interrupt  the  intimacy  of  Ishmael  and  Claudia.  He  still  sat 
at  her  feet  beneath  the  green  shadows  of  the  old  elm  tree, 
often  reading  to  her  while  she  worked  her  crochet;  or  strum- 
ming upon  his  old  guitar  an  accompaniment  to  her  song.  For 
long  ago  the  professor  had  taught  Ishmael  to  play,  and  loaned 
him  the  instrument. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  Claudia's  favor  of  Ishmael 
could  be  witnessed  by  his  companions  without  exciting  their 
envy  and  dislike  of  our  youth.  But  the  more  strongly  they 
evinced  their  disapproval  of  her  partiality  for  Ishmael,  the  more 
ostentatiously  she  displayed  it. 

Many  were  the  covert  sneers  leveled  at  "Nobody's  Son," 
And  often  Ishmael  felt  his  heart  swell,  his  blood  boil,  and  his 
cheek  burn  at  these  cowardly  insults.  And  it  was  well  for  all 
concerned  that  the  youth  was  "  obedient "  to  that  "  heavenly 
vision"  which  had  warned  him,  in  these  sore  trials,  not  to  ask 


THE   DRExVM    AND    THE    AWAKENIISTG.  293 

timself — as  had  been  his  boyish  custom — what  Marion,  Put- 
nam, Jackson,  or  any  of  the  great  battle-ax  heroes  would  have 
done  in  a  similar  crisis ;  but  what  Christ,  the  Prince  of  Peace, 
"would  have  done;  fox  Ishmael  knew  that  all  these  great  his- 
torical warriors  held  the  "  bloody  code  of  honor "  that  would 
oblige  them  to  answer  insult  with  death;  but  that  the  Saviour 
of  the  world  "  when  reviled,  reviled  not  again " ;  and  that  he 
commended  all  his  followers  to  do  likewise,  returning  "  good 
for  evil,"  "  blessings  for  cursings." 

All  this  was  very  hard  to  do;  and  the  difficulty  of  it  finally 
sent  Ishmael  to  study  his  Bible  with  a  new  interest,  to  seek  the 
mystery  of  the  Saviour's  majestic  meekness.  In  the  light  of  a 
new  experience,  he  read  the  amazing  story  of  the  life,  suffer- 
ings, and  death  of  Christ.  Oh,  nothing  in  the  whole  history 
of  mankind  could  approach  this,  for  beauty,  for  sublimity,  and 
for  completeness;  nothing  had  ever  so  warmed,  inspired,  and 
elevated  his  soul  as  this;  this  was  perfect;  answering  all  the 
needs  of  his  spirit.  The  great  heroes  and  sages  of  history 
might  be  very  good  and  useful  as  examples  and  references  in 
the  ordinary  trials  and  temptations  of  life;  but  only  Christ 
could  teach  him  how  to  meet  the  great  trial  from  the  world 
■without,  where  envy  and  hate  assailed  him ;  or  how  to  resist  the 
dark  temptations  from  the  world  within,  in  whose  deep  shadows 
rage  and  murder  lurked!  Henceforth  the  Saviour  became  his 
own  exemplar  and  the  gospel  his  only  guidebook.  Such  was 
the  manner  in  which  Ishmael  was  called  of  the  Lord.  He  be- 
came proof  against  the  most  envenomed  shafts  of  malice.  The 
reflection:  What  would  Christ  have  done?  armed  him  with  a 
sublime  and  invincible  meekness  and  courage. 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 

THE  DREAM  AND  THE  AWAKENING. 

The  lover  ia  a  god, — the  ground 

He  treads  on  is  iK)t  ours; 
His  soul  by  other  laws  is  bound, 

Sustained  by  other  powers; 
His  own  and  that  one  other  heart 
Form  for  himself  a  world  apart. 

— Milnes. 

Time  went  on  on.  Autumn  faded  into  winter:  the  flowers 
were  withered;  the  grass  dried;  the  woods  bare.     Miss  Merlin 


294  ishmael;  oe,  in  the  depths. 

no  longer  sat  under  the  green  shadows  of  the  old  elm  tree; 
there  were  no  green  shadows  there;  the  tree  was  stripped  of  its 
leaves  and  seemed  but  the  skeleton  of  itself,  and  the  snow  lay 
around  its  foot. 

The  season,  far  from  interrupting  the  intimacy  between  the 
heiress  and  her  favorite,  only  served  to  draw  them  even  more 
closely  together.  This  was  the  way  of  it.  At  the  noon  recess 
all  the  pupils  of  the  school  would  rush  madly  out  upon  the  lawn 
to  engage  in  the  rough,  healthful,  and  exciting  game  of  snow- 
balling each  other — all  ex,cept  Claudia,  v;ho  was  far  too  fine  a 
lady  to  enter  into  any  such  rude  sport ,  and  Ishmael,  whose  at- 
tendance upon  her  own  presence  she  would  peremptorily  de- 
mand. 

While  all  the  others  were  running  over  each  other  in  their 
haste  to  get  out,  Claudia  would  pass  into  the  empty  drawing 
room,  and  seating  herself  in  the  deep  easy  chair,  would  call  to 
her  "  gentleman  in  waiting,"  saying : 

"  Come,  my  young  troubadour,  bring  your  guitar  and  sit 
down  upon  this  cushion  at  my  feet  and  play  an  accompaniment 
to  my  song,  as  I  sing  and  work." 

And  Ishmael,  filled  with  joy,  would  fly  to  obey  the  royal 
mandate;  and  soon  seated  at  the  beauty's  feet,  in  the  glow  of 
the  warm  wood  fire  and  in  the  glory  of  her  heavenly  presence, 
he  would  lose  himself  in  a  delicious  dream  of  love  and  music. 
No  one  ever  interrupted  their  tete-a-tete.  And  Ishmael  grew 
to  feel  that  he  belonged  to  his  liege  lady;  that  they  were  for- 
ever inseparate  and  inseparable.  And  thus  his  days  passed  in 
one  delusive  dream  of  bliss  until  the  time  came  when  he  was 
rudely  awakened. 

One  evening,  as  usual,  he  took  leave  of  Claudia.  It  was  a 
bitter  cold  evening,  and  she  took  off  her  own  crimson  Berlin 
wool  scarf  and  with  her  own  fair  hands  wound  it  around  Ish- 
mael's  neck,  and  charged  him  to  hasten  home,  because  she 
knew  that  influenza  would  be  lying  in  wait  to  seize  any  loiter- 
ing pedestrian  that  night. 

Ishmael  ran  home,  as  happy  as  it  was  in  the  power  of  man 
to  make  him.  How  blest  he  felt  in  the  possession  of  her  scarf — 
her  fine,  soft,  warm  scarf,  deliciously  filled  with  the  aroma  of 
Claudia's  own  youth,  beauty,  and  sweetness.  He  felt  that  he 
was  not  quite  separated  from  her  while  he  had  her  scarf — her 
dear  scarf,  with  the  warmth  and  perfume  of  her  ovsti  neck  yet 
within  its  meshes!     That  night  he  only  imwound  it  from  his 


THE  DEEAM  AND  THE  AWAKENING.      295 

throat  to  fold  it  and  lay  it  on  liis  pillow  that  his  cheek  might 
rest  upon  it  while  he  slept — slept  the  sweetest  sleep  that  ever 
visited  his  eyes. 

Ah,  poor,  pale  sleeper!  this  was  the  last  happy  night  he  was 
destined  to  have  for  many  weeks  and  months. 

In  the  morning  he  arose  early  as  usual  to  hasten  to  school 
and — to  Claudia.  He  wound  her  gift  around  his  neck  and 
set  off  at  a  brisk  pace.  The  weather  was  still  intensely  cold; 
but  the  winter  sky  was  clear  and  the  sunshine  glittered  "  keen, 
and  bright "  upon  the  crisp  white  snow.  Ishmael  hurried  on 
and  reached  Brudenell  Hall  just  in  time  to  see  a  large  fur- 
covered  sleigh,  drawn  by  a  pair  of  fine  horses,  shoot  through 
the  great  gates  and  disappear  down  the  forest  road. 

A  death-like  feeling,  a  strange  spasm,  as  if  a  hand  of  ice  had 
clutched  his  heart,  caught  away  Ishmael's  breath  at  the  sight 
of  that  vanishing  sleigh.  He  could  not  rationally  account  for 
this  feeling;  but  soon  as  he  recovered  his  breath, he  inquired 
of  old  Jovial,  who  stood  gazing  after  the  sleigh. 

"  Who  has  gone  away  ?  " 

"  Miss  Claudia,  sir ;  her  pa  came  after  her  last  night ^" 

"  Claudia — gone !  "  echoing  Ishmael,  reeling  and  supporting 
himself  against  the  trunk  of  the  bare  old  elm  tree. 

"  It  was  most  unexpected,  sir ;  mist'ess  sat  up  most  all  night 
to  see  to  the  packing  of  her  clothes " 

"  Gone — gone — Claudia  gone !  "  breathed  Ishmael,  in  a  voice 
despairing,  yet  so  low,  that  it  did  not  interrupt  the  easy  flow  of 
Jovial's  narrative. 

"But  you  see,  sir,  the  judge,  he  said  how  he  hadn't  a  day 
to  lose,  'cause  he'd  have  to  be  at  Annapolis  to-morrow  to  open 
his  court " 

"  Gone — gone !  "  wailed  Ishmael,  dropping  his  arms. 

"And  'pears  the  judge  did  write  to  warn  master  and  mist'ess 
to  get  Miss  Claudia  ready  to  go  this  morning;  but  seems  like 
they  never  got  the  letter " 

"  Oh,  gone !  "  moaned  Ishmael. 

— "  Anyways,'  it  was  all,  *  Quick !  march ! '  and  away  they 
went.  And  the  word  does  go  around  as,  after  the  court  term 
is  over,  the  judge  he  means  to  take  Miss  Claudia  over  the  seas 
to  forrin  parts  to  see  the  world." 

"  Which — which  road  did  they  take,  Jovial  ?  "  gasped  Ishmael, 
striving  hard  to  recover  breath  and  strength  and  the  power  of 
motion. 


29 Q  ishmael;  or,  in^  the  depths. 

"  Law,  sir,  the  Baymouth  road,  to  be  sure !  where  they  'spects 
to  take  the  'Napolis  boat,  which  'ill  be  a  nigh  thing  if  they  get 
there  in  time  to  meet  it,  dough  dey  has  taken  the  sleigh  an' 
the  fast  horses." 

Ishmael  heard  no  more.  Dropping  his  books,  he  darted  out 
of  the  gate,  and  fled  along  the  road  taken  by  the  travelers.  Was 
it  in  the  mad  hope  of  overtaking  the  sleigh  ?  As  well  might  he 
expect  to  overtake  an  express  train !  No — ^lie  was  mad  indeed ! 
maddened  by  the  suddenness  of  his  bereavement;  but  not  so 
mad  as  that;  and  he  started  after  his  flying  love  in  the  fierce, 
blind,  passionate  instinct  of  pursuit.  A  whirl  of  wild  hopes 
kept  him  up  and  urged  him  on — hopes  that  they  might  stop  on 
the  road  to  water  the  horses,  or  to  refresh  themselves,  or  that 
they  might  be  delayed  at  the  toll-gate  to  make  change,  or  that 
some  other  possible  or  impossible  thing  might  happen  to  stop 
their  journ^y  long  enough  for  him  to  overtake  them  and  see 
Claudia  once  more;  to  shake  hands  with  her,  bid  her  good-by, 
and  receive  from  her  at  parting  some  last  word  of  regard — 
some  last  token  of  remembrance!  This  was  now  the  only  ob- 
ject of  his  life ;  this  was  what  urged  him  onward  in  that  fearful 
chase!  To  see  Claudia  once  more — to  meet  her  eyes — to  clasp 
lier  hand — to  hear  her  voice — to  bid  her  farewell ! 

On  and  on  he  ran;  toiling  up  hill,  and  rushing  down  dale; 
overturning  all  impediments  that  lay  in  his  way;  startling  all 
the  foot-passengers  with  the  fear  of  an  escaped  maniac !  On 
and  on  he  sped  in  his  mad  flight,  until  he  reached  the  outskirts 
of  the  village.  There  a  sharp  pang  and  sudden  faintness 
obliged  him  to  stop  and  rest,  grudging  the  few  moments  re- 
quired for  the  recovery  of  his  breath.  Then  he  set  o3  again, 
and  ran  all  the  way  into  the  village — ran  down  the  principal 
street,  and  turned  down  the  one  leading  to  the  wharf. 

A  quick,  breathless  glance  told  him  all.  The  boat  had  left 
the  shore,  and  was  steaming  down  the  bay. 

He  ran  down  to  the  water's  edge,  stretching  his  arms  out 
towards  the  receding  steamer,  and  with  an  agonizing  cry  of 
"  Claudia !  Claudia ! "  fell  forward  upon  his  face  in  a  deep 
swoon. 

A  crowd  of  villagers  gathered  around  him. 

"Who  is  he?" 

"What  is  the  matter  with  him?" 

"Is  he  ill?" 

"Has  he  fainted 2 •' 


DAKKNESS.  297 

**  Has  he  been  hurt  ?  " 

*'Has  an  accident  happened?" 

"  Is  there  a  doctor  to  be  had  ? " 

All  these  questions  were  asked  in  the  same  breath  by  the 
various  individuals  of  the  crowd  that  had  collected  around  the 
insensible  boy;  but  none  seemed  ready  with  an  answer. 

"  Is  there  no  one  here  who  can  tell  who  he  is  ? "  inquired  a 
tall,  gray-haired,  mild-looking  man,  stooping  to  raise  the  pros- 
trate form. 

"Yes;  it  is  Ishmael  Worth!"  answered  Hamlin,  the  book- 
seller, who  was  a  newcomer  upon  the  scene. 

"  Ishmael  Worth?  Hannah  Worth's  nephew?  " 

"  Yes ;  that  is  who  he  is." 

"  Then  stand  out  of  the  way,  friends ;  I  will  take  charge  of 
the  lad,"  said  the  gray-haired  stranger,  lifting  the  form  of  the 
boy  in  his  arms,  and  gazing  into  his  face, 

"  He  is  not  hurt ;  he  is  only  in  a  dead  faint,  and  I  had  bet- 
ter take  him  home  at  once,"  continued  the  old  man,  as  he  car- 
ried his  burden  to  a  light  wagon  that  stood  in  the  street  in 
charge  of  a  negro,  and  laid  him  carefully  on  the  cushions. 
Then  he  got  in  himself,  and  took  the  boy's  head  upon  his 
knees,  and  directed  the  negro  to  drive  gently  along  the  road 
leading  to  the  weaver's.  And  with  what  infinite  tenderness 
the  stranger  supported  the  light  form;  with  what  wistful  in- 
terest he  contemplated  the  livid  young  face.  And  so  at  an 
easy  pace  they  reached  the  hill  hut. 


CHAPTER  XXXVL 

DARKNESS. 

With  such  wrong  and  woe  exhausted,  what  T  suflfered  and  occasioned — 

As  a  wild  horse  through  a  city,  runs,  with  lightning  in  his  eyes, 
And  then  dashing  at  a  church's  cold  and  passive  wall  impassioned. 

Strikes  the  death  into  his  burning  brain,  and  blindly  drops  and  dies— 
So  I  fell  struck  down  before  her!     Do  you  blame  me,  friends,  for  weakness  ? 

'Twas  my  strength  of  passion  slew  me!  fell  before  her  like  a  stone; 
Fast  the  dreadful  world  rolled  from  me,  on  its  roaring  wheels  of  blackness! 

When  the  light  oame,  I  was  lying  in  this  chamber — and  alone. 

^E.  B.  Browning. 

Hannah  Worth  was  sitting  over  her  great  wood  fire  and  busily 
engaged  in  needlework  when  the  door  was  gently  pushed  open 
and  the  gray-haired  man  entered,  bearing  the  boy  in  his  arms. 


298  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IX   THE   DEFIHS. 

Hannali  looked  calmly  up,  then  threw  dov^n  her  work  and 
started  from  her  chair,  exclaiming: 

"  Keuben  Gray !  you  back  again !  you !  and — who  have  you 
got  there — Ishmael  ?  Good  Heavens !  what  has  happened  to  the 
poor  boy  ? " 

"  ISTothing  to  frighten  you,  Hannah,  my  dear ;  he  has  fainted, 
I  think,  that  is  all,"  answered  Keuben  gently,  as  he  laid  the 
boy  carefully  upon  the  bed. 

"But,  ch,  my  goodness,  Reuben,  how  did  it  happen?  where 
did  you  find  him  ? "  cried  Hannah,  frantically  seizing  first  one 
liahd  and  then  the  other  of  the  fainting  boy,  and  clapping  and 
Tubbing  them  vigorously. 

"I  picked  him  up  on  the  Baymouth  wharf  about  half  an 
hour  ago,  Hannah,  my  dear,  and " 

"  The  Baymouth  wharf !  that  is  out  of  all  reason !  Why  it  is 
not  more  than  two  hours  since  he  started  to  go  to  Brudenell 
Hall,"  exclaimed  Hannah,  as  she  violently  rubbed  away  at  the 
boy's  hands. 

Reuben  was  standing  patiently  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  with 
his  hat  in  his  hands,  and  he  answered  slowly: 

"  Well,  Hannah,  I  don't  know  how  that  might  be ;  but  I 
know  I  picked  him  up  where  I  said." 

"  But  what  caused  all  this,  Reuben  Gray  ?  What  caused 
it  ?  that's  what  I  want  to  know !  can't  you  speak  ? "  harshly  de- 
manded the  woman,  as  she  flew  to  her  cupboard,  seized  a  vinegar 
cruet,  and  began  to  bathe  Ishmael's  head  and  face  with  its 
stimulating  contents. 

"Well,  Hannah,  I  couldn't  tell  exactly;  but  'pears  to  m© 
someone  went  off  in  the  boat  as  he  was  a-pining  after." 

"  Who  went  off  in  the  boat  ? "  asked  Hannah  impatiently. 

"  Law,  Hannah,  my  dear,  how  can  I  tell  ?  Why,  there  wasn't 
less  than  thirty  or  forty  passengers,  more  or  less,  went  off  in 
that  boat!" 

"What  do  I  care  how  many  restless  fools  went  off  in  the 
boat  ?  Tell  me  about  the  boy ! "  snapped  Hannah,  as  she  once 
more  ran  to  the  cupboard,  poured  out  a  little  precious  brandy 
(kept  for  medicinal  purposes)  and  came  and  tried  to  force  a 
teaspoonful  between  Ishmael's  lips. 

"  Hannah,  woman,  don't  be  so  impatient.  Indeed,  it  wasn't 
my  fault.    I  will  tell  you  all  I  know  about  it." 

"  Tell  me,  then." 

"  I  am  going  to.    Well,  you  see,  I  had  just  taken  some  of  the 


DARKNESS.  299 

judge's  luggage  down  to  the  boat  and  got  it  well  on,  and  the 
boat  had  just  started,  and  I  was  just  a-getting  into  my  cart 
again  when  I  see  a  youth  come  a-tearin'  dowii  the  street  like 
mad,  and  he  whips  round  the  corner  like  a  rush  of  wind,  and 
streaks  it  down  to  the  wharf  and  looks  after  the  boat  as  if  it 
was  a-carrying  off  every  friend  he  had  upon  the  yeth;  and  then. 
lie  stretches  out  both  his  arms  and  cries  out  aloud,  and  falls 
on  his  face  like  a  tree  cut  down.  And  a  crowd  gathered,  and 
someone  said  how  the  lad  was  your  nephew,  so  I  picked  him  up 
and  laid  him  in  my  cart  to  bring  him  home.  And  I  made 
Bob  drive  slow;  and  I  bathed  the  boy's  face  and  hands  with, 
some  good  whisky,  and  tried  to  make  him  swallow  some;  but 
it  was  no  use." 

While  Reuben  spoke,  Ishmael  gave  signs  of  returning  con- 
sciousness, and  then  suddenly  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  around 
him. 

"  Drink  this,  my  boy ;  drink  this,  my  darling  Ishmael,"  said 
Hannah,  raising  his  head  with  one  hand  while  she  held  the 
brandy  to  his  lips  with  the  other. 

Ishmael  obediently  drank  a  little  and  then  sank  back  upon  his 
pillow.  He  gazed  fixedly  at  Hannah  for  a  few  moments,  and 
then  suddenly  threw  his  arms  around  her  neck,  as  she  stooped 
over  him,  and  cried  out  in  a  voice  piercing  shrill  with 
anguish : 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Hannah !  she  is  gone ;  she  is  gone  forever ! " 

"  Who  is  gone,  my  boy  ? "  asked  Hannah  sympathetically. 

"  Claudia !  Claudia !  "  he  wailed,  covering  his  convulsed  face 
with  his  hands. 

"  JSTow,  my  ban  upon  Brudenell  Hall  and  all  connected  with 
it ! "  exclaimed  Hannah  bitterly,  as  the  hitherto  unsuspected 
fact  of  Ishmael's  fatal  love  flashed  upon  her  mind ;  "  my  black- 
est ban  upon  Brudenell  Hall  and  all  its  hateful  race!  It  was 
built  for  the  ruin  of  me  and  mine !  I  was  a  fool,  a  weak,  wicked 
fool,  ever  to  have  allowed  Ishmael  to  enter  its  unlucky  doors! 
My  curse  upon  them !  " 

The  boy  threw  up  his  thin  hand  with  a  gesture  of  deprecation. 

"  Don't !  don't !  don't.  Aunt  Hannah !  Every  word  you  speak 
is  a  stab  through  my  heart."  And  the  sentence  closed  with  a 
gasp  and  a  sob,  and  he  covered  his  face  with  his  hands. 

"  What  can  I  do  for  him  ? "  said  Hannah,  appealing  to 
Reuben. 

"Nothing,  my  dear,  but  what  you  have  done.     Leave  him 


300  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IX    THE    DEPTHS. 

alone  to  rest  quietly.  It  is  easy  to  see  that  he  has  been  very 
much  shaken  both  in  body  and  hind ;  and  perfect  rest  is  the  only 
thing  as  will  help  him,"  answered  Gray. 

Ishmael's  hands  covered  his  quivering  face;  but  they  saw 
that  his  bosom  was  heaving  convulsively.  He  seemed  to  be 
struggling  valiantly  to  regain  composure.  Presently,  as  if 
ashamed  of  having  betrayed  his  weakness,  he  uncovered  his 
face  and  said,  in  a  faltering  and  interrupted  voice: 

"  Dear  Aunt  Hannah,  I  am  so  sorry  that  I  have  disturbed 
you;  excuse  me;  and  let  me  lie  here  for  half  an  hour  to  re- 
cover myself.  I  do  not  wish  to  be  self-indulgent ;  but  I  am  ex- 
hausted.    I  ran  all  the  way  from  Brudenell  Hall  to  Baymouth 

to  get — to  see — to  see "    His  voice  broke  down  with  a  sob, 

he  covered  his  face  with  his  hands,  and  shook  as  with  an  ague. 

"!N'ever  mind,  my  dear,  don't  try  to  explain;  lie  as  long  as 
you  wish,  and  sleep  if  you  can,"  said  Hannah. 

But  Ishmael  looked  up  again,  and  with  recovered  calmness, 
said: 

"  I  will  rest  for  half  an  hour.  Aunt  Hannah,  no  longer ;  and 
then  I  will  get  up  and  cut  the  wood,  or  do  any  work  you  want 
done." 

"  Very  well,  my  boy,"  said  Hannah,  stooping  and  kissing 
him.  Then  she  arranged  the  pillow,  covered  him  up  carefully, 
drew  the  curtains  and  came  away  and  left  him. 

"  He  will  be  all  right  in  a  little  while,  Hannah,  my  dear,"  said 
Keuben,  as  he  walked  with  her  to  the  fireplace. 

"  Sit  down  there,  Reuben,  and  tell  me  about  yourself,  and 
■where  you  have  been  living  all  this  time,"  said  Hannah,  seat- 
ing herself  in  her  arm-chair  and  pointing  to  another. 

Reuben  slowly  took  the  seat  and  carefully  deposited  his  hat 
on  the  floor  by  his  side. 

"  I  am  sorry  I  spoke  so  sharply  to  you  about  the  lad,  Reuben ; 
it  was  a  thankless  return  for  all  your  kindness  in  taking  care 
of  him  and  bringing  him  home ;  but  indeed  I  am  not  thankless, 
Reuben;  but  I  have  grown  to  be  a  cross  old  woman,"  she  said. 

"  Have  you,  indeed,  Hannah,  my  dear  ? "  exclaimed  Reuben, 
raising  his  eyebrows  in  sincere  astonishment  and  some  con- 
sternation. 

"  It  appears  to  me  that  you  might  see  that  I  have,"  replied 
Hannah  plainly. 

"  Well,  no ;  seems  to  me,  my  dear,  you're  the  same  as  you 
allers  was,  both  as  to  looks  and  as  to  temper." 


DAKKNESS.  301 

"  I  feel  that  I  am  very  much  changed.  And  so  are  you,  Reu- 
ben !  How  gray  your  hair  is ! "  she  said,  looking  critically  at 
her  old  admirer. 

"  Gray !  I  believe  you !  Aint  it  though  ?  "  exclaimed  Reuben, 
smiling,  and  running  his  fingers  through  his  blanched  locks. 

"But  you  haven't  told  me  all  about  yourself,  yet;  where  you 
have  been  living;  how  you  have  been  getting  along,  and  what 
brought  you  back  to  this  part  of  the  country,"  said  Hannah, 
with  an  air  of  deep  interest. 

"  Why,  Hannah,  my  dear,  didn't  you  know  all  how  and 
about  it  ? " 

"  No ;  I  heard  long  ago,  of  course,  that  you  had  got  a  place 
as  overseer  on  the  plantation  of  some  rich  gentleman  up  in 
the  forest;  but  that  was  all;  I  never  even  heard  the  name  of 
the  place  or  the  master." 

"  Well,  now,  that  beats  all !  Why,  Hannah,  woman,  as  soon 
as  I  got  settled,  I  set  down  and  writ  you  a  letter,  and  all  how 
and  about  it,  and  axed  you,  if  ever  you  changed  your  mind  about 
what — about  the — about  our  affairs,  you  know — to  drop  me  a 
line  and  I'd  come  and  marry  you  and  the  child,  right  out  of 
hand,  and  fetch  you  both  to  my  new  home." 

"  I  never  got  the  letter." 

"  See  that,  now !  Everj-thing,  even  the  post,  goes  to  cross  a 
feller's  love !  But  Hannah,  woman,  if  you  had  a-got  the  let- 
ter, would  you  a-called  me  back  ?  "  asked  Gray  eagerly. 

"  'No,  Reuben,  certainly  not,"  said  Hannah  decidedly. 

"  Then  it  is  just  as  well  you  didn't  get  it,"  sighed  this  most 
faithful,  though  most  unfortunate  of  suitors. 

"  Yes ;  just-  as  well,  Reuben,"  assented  Hannah ;  "  but  that 
fact  does  not  lessen  my  interests  in  your  fortunes,  and  as  I 
never  got  the  letter  I  am  still  ignorant  of  your  circumstances."^ 

"  Well,  Hannah,  my  dear,  I'm  thankful  as  you  feel  any  in- 
terest in  me  at  all;  and  I'll  tell  you  everything.  Let  me  see, 
what  was  it  you  was  wanting  to  know,  now?  all  about  myself; 
where  I  was  living;  how  I  was  getting  along;  and  what  fetch 
me  back  here;  all  soon  told,  Hannah,  my  dear.  First  about  my- 
self: You  see,  Hannah,  that  day  as  you  slammed  the  door  in 
my  face  I  felt  so  distressed  in  my  mind  as  I  didn't  care  what 
on  earth  became  of  me;  first  I  thought  I'd  just  'list  for  a  sol- 
dier; then  I  thought  I'd  ship  for  a  sailor;  last  I  thought  I'd 
go  and  seek  my  fortun'  in  Calif orny;  but  then  the  idea  of  the 
girls  having  no  protector  but  myseK  hindered  of  me ;  hows'ever. 


302  ISHMAEL  ;   OK,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

anyways  I  made  up  my  mind,  as  come  what  would  I'd  leave 
the  neighborhood  first  opportunity;  and  so,  soon  after,  as  I 
heard  of  a  situation  as  overseer  at  Judge  Merlin's  plantation 
up  in  the  forest  of  Prince  George's  County,  I  sets  off  and  walks 
up  there,  and  offers  myself  for  the  place;  and  was  so  fort'nate 
as  to  be  taken;  so  I  comes  back  and  moves  my  family,  bag  and 
baggage,  up  there,  iiow  as  to  the  place  where  I  live,  it  is  called 
Tangiewood,  and  a  tangle  it  is,  as  gets  more  and  more  tangled 
every  year  of  its  life.  As  to  how  I'm  getting  on,  Hannah,  I 
can't  complain;  for  if  I  have  to  do  very  hard  work,  I  get  very- 
good  wages.  As  to  what  brought  me  back  to  the  neighborhood, 
Hannah,  it  was  to  do  some  business  for  the  judge,  and  to  buy 
some  stock  for  the  farm.  But  there,  my  dear!  that  boy  has 
slipped  out,  and  is  cutting  the  wood ;  I'll  go  and  do  it  for  him," 
said  Eeuben,  as  the  sound  of  Ishmael's  ax  fell  upon  his  ears. 

Hannah  arose  and  followed  Gray  to  the  door,  and  there  be- 
fore it  stood  Ishmael,  chopping  away  at  random,  upon  the  pile 
of  wood,  his  cheeks  flushed  with  fever  and  his  eyes  wild  with 
excitement. 

"  Hannah,  he  is  ill ;  he  is  very  ill ;  he  doesn't  well  know  what 
he  is  about,"  said  Eeuben,  taking  the  ax  from  the  boy's  hand. 

"  Ishmael,  Ishmael,  my  lad,  come  in ;  you  are  not  well  enough 
to  work,"  said  Hannah  anxiously. 

Ishmael  yielded  up  the  ax  and  suffered  Reuben  to  draw  him 
into  the  house. 

"  It  is  only  that  I  am  so  hot  and  dizzy  and  weak,  Mr.  Middle- 
ton;  but  I  am  sure  I  shall  be  able  to  do  it  presently,"  said  Ish- 
mael apologetically,  as  he  put  his  hand  to  his  head  and  looked 
around  himself  in  perplexity. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,  the  boy  is  out  of  his  head,  Hannah,  and 
it's  my  belief  as  he's  a  going  to  have  a  bad  illness,"  said  Reuben, 
as  he  guided  Ishmael  to  the  bed  and  laid  him  on  it. 

"  Oh,  Reuben !  what  shall  we  do  ?  "  exclaimed  Hannah. 

"I  don't  know,  child!  wait  a  bit  and  see." 

They  had  not  long  to  wait ;  in  a  few  hours  Ishmael  was  burn- 
ing with  fever  and  raving  with  delirium. 

"  This  is  a-gwine  to  be  a  bad  job !  I'll  go  and  fetch  a  doc- 
tor," said  Reuben  Gray,  hurrying  away  for  the  purpose. 

Reuben's  words  proved  true.  It  was  a  "  bad  job."  Severe 
study,  mental  excitement,  disappointm.ent  and  distress  had  done 
their  work  upon  his  extremely  sensitive  organization,  and  Ish- 
mael was  prostrated  by  illness. 


DAEKNESS.  303 

We  will  not  linger  over  the  gloomy  days  that  followed.  The 
village  doctor  brought  by  Reuben  was  as  skillful  as  if  he  had 
been  the  fashionable  physician  of  a  large  city,  and  as  attentive 
as  if  his  poor  young  patient  had  been  a  millionaire.  Hannah 
devoted  herself  with  almost  motherly  love  to  the  suffering  boy; 
and  Reuben  remained  in  the  neighborhood  and  came  every 
day  to  fetch  and  carry,  chop  wood  and  bring  water,  and  help 
Hannah  to  nurse  Ishmael.  And  Hannah  was  absolutely  re- 
duced to  the  necessity  of  accepting  his  affectionate  services. 
Mr.  Middleton,  as  soon  as  he  heard  of  his  favorite's  illness, 
hurried  to  the  hut  to  inquire  into  Ishmael's  condition  and  to 
offer  every  assistance  in  his  power  to  render;  and  he  repeated 
his  visits  as  often  as  the  great  pressure  of  his  affairs  permitted 
him  to  do,  Ishmael's  illness  was  long  protracted;  Mr.  Middle- 
ton's  orders  to  vacate  Brudenell  Hall  on  or  before  the  first 
day  of  February  were  peremptory;  and  thus  it  followed  that 
the  whole  family  removed  from  the  neighborhood  before  Ish- 
mael was  in  a  condition  to  bid  them  farewell. 

The  day  previous  to  their  departure,  however,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Middleton,  with  Walter  and  Beatrice,  came  to  take  leave  of  him. 
As  Mrs.  Middleton  stooped  over  the  unconscious  youth  her 
tears  fell  fast  and  warm  upon  his  face,  so  that  in  his  fever 
dream  he  murmured : 

"  Claudia,  it  is  beginning  to  rain,  let  us  go  in." 

At  this  Beatrice  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears  and  was  led  away 
to  the  carriage  by  her  father. 

After  the  departure  of  the  Middletons  it  was  currently  re- 
ported in  the  neighborhood  that  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Herman 
Brudenell  was  daily  expected.  Hannah  became  very  much  dis- 
turbed with  an  anxiety  that  was  all  the  more  wearing  because 
she  could  not  communicate  it  to  anyone.  The  idea  of  remain- 
ing in  the  neighborhood  with  Mr.  Brudenell,  and  being  sub- 
jected to  the  chance  of  meeting  him,  was  unsupportable  to 
her;  she  would  have  been  glad  of  any  happy  event  that  might 
take  her  off  to  a  distant  part  of  the  State,  and  she  resolved,  in 
the  event  of  poor  Ishmael's  death,  to  go  and  seek  a  home  and 
service  somewhere  else.  Reuben  Gray  stayed  on;  and  in  answer 
to  all  Hannah's  remonstrances  he  said : 

"  It  is  of  no  use  talking  to  me  now,  Hannah !  You  can't  do 
without  me,  woman;  and  I  mean  to  stop  until  the  poor  lad  gets 
well  or  dies." 

But  our  boy  was  not  doomed  to  die;  the  indestructible  vi- 


304  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IIT   THE    DEPTHS. 

tality,  the  irrepressible  elasticity  of  his  delicate  and  sensitive 
organization,  bore  him  through  and  above  his  terrible  illness, 
and  he  passed  the  crisis  safely  and  lived.  After  that  turning 
point  his  recovery  was  rapid.  It  was  a  mild,  dry  mid-day  in 
early  spring  that  Ishmael  walked  out  for  the  first  time.  He 
bent  his  steps  to  the  old  oak  tree  that  overshadowed  his  mother's 
grave,  and  seated  himself  there  to  enjoy  the  fresh  air  while  he 
reflected. 

Ishmael  took  himself  severely  to  task  for  what  he  called  the 
blindness,  the  weakness,  and  the  folly  with  which  he  had  per- 
mitted himself  to  fall  into  a  hopeless,  mad,  and  nearly  fatal 
passion  for  one  placed  so  high  above  him  that  indeed  he  might 
as  well  have  loved  some  "  bright  particular  star,"  and  hoped  to 
win  it.  And  here  on  the  sacred  turf  of  his  mother's  grave  he 
resolved  once  for  all  to  conquer  this  boyish  passion,  by  devoting 
himself  to  the  serious  business  of  life. 

Hannah  and  Reuben  were  left  alone  in  the  hut. 

"  JSTow,  Eeuben  Gray,"  began  Hannah,  "  no  tongue  can  tell 
how  much  I  feel  your  goodness  to  me  and  Ishmael;  but,  my 
good  man,  you  mustn't  stay  in  this  neighborhood  any  longer; 
Ishmael  is  well  and  does  not  need  you;  and  your  employer's 
affairs  are  neglected  and  do  need  you.  So,  Eeuben,  my  friend, 
you  had  better  start  home  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  Well,  Hannah,  my  dear,  I  think  so  too,  and  I  have  thought 
so  for  the  last  week,  only  I  did  not  like  to  hurry  you,"  said 
Eeuben  acquiescently. 

"  Didn't  like  to  hurry  me,  Eeuben  ?  how  hurry  me  ?  I  don't 
know  what  you  mean,"  said  Hannah,  raising  her  eyes  in  aston- 
ishment. 

"  Why,  I  didn't  know  as  you'd  like  to  get  ready  so  soon ;  or, 
indeed,  whether  the  lad  was  able  to  bear  the  journey  yet," 
said  Eeuben  calmly  and  reflectively. 

"  Eeuben,  I  haven't  the  least  idea  of  your  meaning." 

"  Why,  law,  Hannah,  my  dear,  it  seems  to  me  it  is  plain 
enough;  no  woman  likes  to  be  hurried  at  such  times,  and  I 
thought  you  wouldn't  like  to  be  neither;  I  thought  you  would 
like  a  little  time  to  get  up  some  little  finery;  and  also  the  boy 
would  be  the  better  for  more  rest  before  taking  of  a  long 
journey;  but  hows'ever,  Hannah,  if  you  don't  think  all  these 
delays  necessary,  why  I  wouldn't  be  the  man  to  be  a-making 
of  them.  Because,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  considering  the  short- 
ness of  life,  I  think  the  delays  have  been  long  enough ;  and  con- 


DAEKNESS.  305 

sidering  our  age,  I  think  we  have  precious  little  time  to  lose. 
I'm  fifty-one  years  of  age,  Hannah;  and  you  be  getting  on 
smart  towards  forty-four;  and  if  we  ever  mean  to  marry  in 
this  world,  I  think  it  is  about  time,  my  dear," 

"  Reuben  Gray,  is  that  what  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Sartin,  Hannah !  You  didn't  think  I  was  a-going  away 
again  without  you,  did  you  now  ?  " 

"And  so  that  was  what  you  meant,  was  it?" 

"  That  was  what  I  meant,  and  that  was  what  I  still  mean, 
Hannah,  my  dear." 

"  Then  you  must  be  a  natural  fool ! "  burst  forth  Hannah. 

"Now  stop  o'  that,  my  dear!  'taint  a  bit  of  use!  all  them 
hard  words  might  o'  fooled  me  years  and  years  agone,  when 
you  kept  me  at  such  a  distance  that  I  had  no  chance  of  reading 
your  natur';  but  they  can't  fool  me  now,  as  I  have  been  six 
weeks  in  constant  sarvice  here,  Hannah,  and  obsarving  of  you 
close.  Once  they  might  have  made  me  think  you  hated  me ;  but 
now  nothing  you  can  say  will  make  me  believe  but  what  you 
like  eld  Reuben  to-day  just  as  well  as  you  liked  young  Reuben 
that  day  we  first  fell  in  love  long  o'  one  another  at  the  harvest 
home.  And  as  for  me,  Hannah,  the  Lord  knows  I  have  never 
changed  towards  you.  We  always  liked  each  other,  Hannah, 
and  we  like  each  other  still.  So  don't  try  to  deceive  yourself 
about  it,  for  you  can't  deceive  me ! " 

"  Reuben  Gray,  why  do  you  talk  so  to  me  ?  " 

"  Because  it  is  right,  dear." 

"  I  gave  you  your  answer  years  ago." 

"  I  know  you  did,  Hannah ;  because  there  were  sartain  cir- 
cumstances, as  you  chose  to  elewate  into  obstacles  against  our 
marriage;  but  now,  Hannah,  all  these  obstacles  are  removed. 
Nancy  and  Peggy  married  and  went  to  Texas  years  ago.  And 
Kitty  married  and  left  me  last  summer.  She  and  her  husband 
have  gone  to  Calif orny;  where,  they  do  tell  me,  that  lumps  of 
pure  gold  lay  about  the  ground  as  plenty  as  stones  do  around 
here !  Anyways,  they've  all  gone !  all  the  little  sisters  as  I  have 
worked  for,  and  cared  for,  and  saved  for — all  gone,  and  left  me 
alone  in  my  old  age ! " 

"  That  was  very  ungrateful,  and  selfish,  and  cruel  of  them, 
Reuben!  They  should  have  taken  you  with  them!  At  least 
little  Kitty  and  her  husband  should  have  done  so,"  said  Han- 
nah, with  more  feeling  than  she  had  yet  betrayed. 

"Law,  Hannah,  why  little  Kitty  and  her  husband  couldn't! 


306  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

Why,  child,  it  takes  mints  and  mints  of  money  to  pay  for  a 
passage  out  yonder  to  Calif omy!  and  it  takes  nine  months  to 
go  the  v'y'ge — they  have  to  go  all  around  Cape — Cape  Hoof, 
no,  Horn — Cape  Horn !  I  knowed  it  wor  somethin'  relating  to 
cattle.  Yes,  Hannah — hundreds  of  dollars  and  months  of  time 
do  it  take  to  go  to  that  gold  region !  and  so,  'stead  o'  them  being 
able  to  take  me  out,  I  had  to  gather  up  all  my  savings  to  help 
'em  to  pay  their  own  passage." 

"  Poor  Reuben !  poor,  poor  Reuben  1 "  said  Hannah,  •with  the 
tears  springing  to  her  eyes. 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you,  dear ;  but  I  shall  not  be  poor  Reu- 
ben, if  you  will  be  mine,"  whispered  Gray. 

"  Reuben,  dear,  I  would — indeed  I  would — if  I  were  still 
young  and  good-looking;  but  I  am  not  so,  dear  Reuben;  I  am 
middle-aged  and  plain." 

"  Well,  Hannah,  old  sweetheart,  while  you  have  been  growing 
older,  have  I  been  going  bac'ards  and  growing  younger?  One 
would  think  so  to  hear  you  talk.  No,  Hannah !  I  think  there 
is  just  about  the  same  difference  in  our  ages  now  as  there  was 
years  ago;  and  besides,  if  you  were  young  and  handsome,  Han- 
3Qah,  I  would  never  do  such  a  wrong  as  to  ask  you  to  be  the 
wife  of  a  poor  old  man  like  me !  It  is  the  fitness  of  our  ages  and 
circumstances,  as  well  as  our  long  attachment,  that  gives  me 
the  courage  to  ask  you  even  at  this  late  day,  old  friend,  to 
come  and  cheer  my  lonely  home.     Will  you  do  so,  Hannah?" 

"  Reuben,  do  you  really  think  that  I  could  make  you  any 
happier  than  you  are,  or  make  your  home  any  more  comfortable 
than  it  is  ? "  asked  Hannah,  in  a  low,  doubting  voice. 

"  Sartain,  my  dear." 

"  But,  Reuben,  I  am  not  good-tempered  like  I  used  to  be ; 
I  am  very  often  cross;  and " 

"  That  is  because  you  have  been  all  alone,  with  no  one  to 
care  for  you,  Hannah,  my  dear.  You  couldn't  be  cross,  with  me 
to  love  you,"  said  Reuben  soothingly. 

"  But,  indeed,  I  fear  I  should ;  it  is  my  infirmity ;  I  am  cross 
even  with  Ishmael,  poor  dear  lad." 

"  Well,  Hannah,  even  if  you  was  to  be,  I  shouldn't  mind  it 
much.  I  don't  want  to  boast,  but  I  do  hope  as  I've  got  too  much 
manhood  to  be  out  of  patience  with  women ;  besides,  I  aint  easy 
put  out,  you  know." 

"  ISTo,  you  good  fellow ;  I  never  saw  you  out  of  temper  in  my 
life." 


DAEENESS.  307 

"  Thank  you,  Hannah !    Then  it's  a  bargain  ?  " 

"But,  Reuben!  about  Ishmael?" 

"  Lord  bless  you,  Hannah,  why,  I  told  you  years  ago,  when  the 
lad  was  a  helpless  baby,  that  he  should  be  as  welcome  to  me  as 
a  son  of  my  own ;  and  now,  Hannah,  at  his  age,  with  his  larnin', 
he'll  be  a  perfect  treasure  to  m.e,"  said  Reuben,  brightening  up. 

"  In  what  manner,  Reuben  ?  " 

"  Why,  law,  Hannah,  you  know  I  never  could  make  any  fist 
of  reading,  writing,  and  'rithmetic;  and  so  the  keeping  of  the 
farm-books  is  just  the  one  torment  of  my  life.  Little  Kitty 
used  to  keep  them  for  me  before  she  was  married  (you  know  I 
managed  to  give  the  child  a  bit  of  schooling)  ;  but  since  she 
have  been  gone  they  haven't  been  half  kept,  and  if  I  hadn't  a 
good  memory  of  my  own  I  shouldn't  be  able  to  give  no  account 
of  nothing.  Now,  Ishmael,  you  know,  could  put  all  the  books 
to  rights  for  me,  and  keep  them  to  rights." 

"  If  that  be  so,  it  will  relieve  my  mind  very  much,  Reuben," 
replied  Hannah. 

The  appearance  of  Ishmael's  pale  face  at  the  door  put  an  end 
to  the  conversation  for  the  time  being.  And  Reuben  took  up 
his  hat  and  departed. 

That  evening,  after  Reuben  had  bid  them  good-night,  and 
departed  to  the  neighbor's  house  where  he  slept,  Hannah  told 
Ishmael  all  about  her  engagement  to  Gray.  And  it  was  with  the 
utmost  astonishment  the  youth  learned  they  were  all  to  go 
to  reside  on  the  plantation  of  Judge  Merlin — Claudia's  father! 
Well !  to  live  so  near  her  house  would  make  his  duty  to  conquer 
his  passion  only  the  more  dijG&cult,  but  he  was  still  resolved  to 
effect  his  purpose. 

Having  once  given  her  consent,  Hannah  would  not  compro- 
mise Reuben's  interest  with  his  employer  by  making  any  more 
difficulties  or  delays.  She  spent  the  remainder  of  that  week  in 
packing  up  the  few  effects  belonging  to  herself  and  IshmaeL 
The  boy  himself  employed  his  time  in  transplanting  rose- 
bushes from  the  cottage-garden  to  his  mother's  grave,  and 
fencing  it  around  with  a  rude  but  substantial  paling.  On  Sun- 
day morning  Reuben  and  Hannah  were  married  at  the  church; 
and  on  Monday  they  were  to  set  out  for  their  new  home. 

Early  on  Monday  morning  Ishmael  arose  and  went  out  to 
take  leave  of  his  mother's  grave;  and,  kneeling  there,  he  si- 
lently renewed  his  vow  to  rescue  her  name  from  reproach  and 
give  it  to  honor. 


'6VS  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  EN"   THE   DEPTHS. 

Then  he  returned  and  joined  the  traveling  party. 

Before  the  cottage  door  stood  Reuben's  light  wagon,  in  which 
"were  packed  the  trunks  with  their  wearing  apparel,  the  hamper 
with  their  luncheon,  and  all  the  little  light  effects  which  re- 
quired care.  Into  this  Gray  placed  Hannah  and  Ishmael,  tak- 
ing the  driver's  seat  himself.  A  heavier  wagon  behind  this 
one  contained  all  Hannah's  household  furniture,  including  her 
loom  and  wheel  and  Ishmael's  home-made  desk  and  book-shelf, 
and  in  the  driver's  seat  sat  the  negro  man  who  had  come  down, 
in  attendance  upon  the  overseer. 

The  Professor  of  Odd  Jobs  stood  in  the  door  of  the  hut,  with 
his  hat  in  his  hand,  waving  adieu  to  the  departing  travelers. 
The  professor  had  come  by  appointment  to  see  them  off  and  take 
the  key  of  the  hut  to  the  overseer  at  the  Hall. 

The  sun  was  just  rising  above  the  heights  of  Brudenell  Hall 
and  flooding  all  the  vale  with  light.  The  season  was  very  for- 
ward, and,  although  the  month  was  March,  the  weather  was  like 
that  of  April.  The  sky  was  of  that  clear,  soft,  bright  blue  o£ 
early  spring;  the  sun  shone  with  dazzling  splendor;  the  new 
grass  was  springing  up  everywhere,  and  was  enameled  with  early 
violets  and  snow-drops;  the  woods  were  budding  with  the  ten- 
der green  of  young  vegetation.  Distant,  sunny  hills,  covered 
"with  apple  or  peach  orchards  all  in  blossom,  looked  like  vast 
gardens  of  mammoth  red  and  white  rose  trees. 

Even  to  the  aged  spring  brings  renewal  of  life,  but  to  the 
young — not  even  poets  have  words  at  command  to  tell  what  ex- 
hilaration, what  ecstatic  rapture,  it  brings  to  the  young,  who 
are  also  sensitive  and  sympathetic.  ^ 

Ishmael  was  all  these;  his  delicate  organization  was  sus- 
ceptible of  intense  enjoyment  or  suffering.  He  had  never  in. 
his  life  been  five  miles  from  his  native  place;  he  had  just  risen, 
from  a  sick-bed  as  from  a  grave ;  he  was  going  to  penetrate  a 
little  beyond  his  native  round  of  hills,  and  see  what  was  on  the 
other  side;  the  morning  was  young,  the  season  was  early,  the 
world  was  fresh;  this  day  seemed  a  new  birth  to  Ishmael;  this 
journey  a  new  start  in  his  life;  he  intensely  enjoyed  it  all;  to 
him  all  was  delightful:  the  ride  through  the  beautiful,  green, 
hlossoming  woods;  the  glimpses  of  the  blue  sky  through  the 
quivering  upper  leaves;  the  shining  of  the  sun;  the  singing  of 
the  birds ;  the  fragrance  of  the  flowers. 

To  him  the  waving  trees  seemed  bending  in  worship,  the 
birds  trilling  hymns  of  joy,  and  tlie  flowers  wafting  offerings 


DAEKIS^ESS.  309 

of  incense!  There  are  times  when  earth  seems  heaven  and  all 
nature  worshipers.  Ishmael  was  divinely  happy;  even  the  lost 
image  of  Claudia  reappeared  now  surrounded  with  a  halo  of 
hope,  for  to-day  aspirations  seemed  prophecies,  will  seemed 
power,  and  all  things  possible.  And  not  on  Ishmael  alone 
beamed  the  blessed  influence  of  the  spring  weather.  Even  Ilan- 
rxah's  care-worn  face  was  softened  into  contentment  and  en- 
joyment. As  for  Eeuben's  honest  phiz,  it  was  a  sight  to  behold 
in  its  perfect  satisfaction.  Even  the  negro  driver  of  the  heavy 
wagon  let  his  horses  take  their  time  as  he  raised  his  ear  tci 
catch  some  very  delicate  trill  in  a  bird's  song,  or  turned  his  head 
to  inhale  the  perfume  from  some  bank  of  flowers. 

Onward  they  journeyed  at  their  leisure  through  all  that  glad 
morning  landscape. 

At  noon  they  stopped  at  a  clearing  around  a  cool  spring  in 
the  woods,  and  while  the  negro  fed  and  watered  the  horses,  they 
rested  and  refreshed  themselves  with  a  substantial  luncheon, 
and  then  strolled  about  through  the  shades  until  "Sam"  had 
eaten  his  dinner,  re-packed  the  hamper,  and  put  the  horses 
to  the  wagons  again.  And  then  they  all  returned  to  their  seats 
and  recommenced  their  journey. 

On  and  on  they  journeyed  through  the  afternoon ;  deeper  and 
deeper  they  descended  into  the  forest  as  the  sun  declined  in  the 
west.  When  it  was  on  the  edge  of  the  horizon,  striking  long 
golden  lines  through  the  interstices  of  the  woods,  Hannah 
grew  rather  anxious,  and  she  spoke  I'.p : 

"  It  seems  to  me,  Eeuben,  that  we  have  come  ten  miles  since 
We  saw  a  house  or  a  farm." 

"  Yes,  my  dear.  We  are  now  in  the  midst  of  the  old  forest 
of  Prince  George's,  and  our  home  is  yet  about  five  miles  off. 
But  don't  be  afraid,  Hannah,  woman;  you  have  got  me  with 
you,  and  we  will  get  home  before  midnight." 

"  I  am  only  thinking  of  the  runaway  negroes,  Reuben ;  they 
all  take  refuge  in  these  thick  woods,  you  know ;  and  they  are  a 
very  desperate  gang;  their  hands  against  everybody  and  every- 
body's hands  against  them,  you  may  say." 

"True,  Hannah;  they  are  desperate  enough,  for  they  have 
everything  to  fear  and  nothing  to  hope,  in  a  meeting  with  most 
of  the  whites;  but  there  is  no  danger  to  us,  child." 

"  I  don't  know ;  they  murdered  a  harmless  peddler  last  win- 
der, and  attacked  a  peaceable  teamster  this  spring." 

"  Still,  my  dear,  there  is  no  danger ;  we  have  a  pair  of  don- 


310  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IX   THE    DEPTH3. 

l)le-barreled  pistols  loaded,  and  also  a  blunderbuss;  and  we  are 
three  men,  and  you  are  as  good  as  a  fourth;  so  don't  be  afraid." 
Hannah  was  silenced,  if  not  reassured. 
They  journeyed  on  at  a  rate  as  fast  as  the  rather  tired  horses 
could  be  urged  to  make.  When  the  sun  had  set  it  grew  dark, 
very  dark  in  the  forest.  There  was  no  moon;  and  although  it; 
was  a  clear,  starlight  night,  yet  that  did  not  help  them  much. 
They  had  to  drive  very  slowly  and  carefully  to  avoid  accidents, 
and  it  was  indeed  midnight  when  they  drove  up  to  the  door  of 
Hannah's  new  home.  It  was  too  dark  to  see  more  of  it  than  that 
it  was  a  two-storied  white  cottage  with  a  vine-clad  porch,  and 
that  it  stood  in  a  garden  on  the  edge  of  the  wood. 


CHAPTER  XXXVn. 

THE  NEW  HOME. 

It  is  a  quiet  picture  of  delight, 

The  humble  cottage,  hiding  from  the  Run 

In  the  thick  woods.     You  see  it  not  till  then, 

"When  at  its  porch.     Rudely,  but  neatly  wrought, 

Four  columns  make  its  entrance;  slender  shafts, 

The  rough  bark  yet  upon  them,  as  they  came 

From  the  old  forest.     Prolific  vines 

Have  wreathed  them  well  and  half  obscured  the  rlads 

Original,  that  wrap  them.     Crowding  leaves 

Or  glistening  green,  and  clustering  bright  flowers 

Of  purple,  in  whose  cups,  throughout  the  day, 

The  humming  bird  wantons  boldly   wave  around 

And  woo  the  gentle  eye  and  delicate  touch. 

This  is  the  dwelling,  and  'twill  be  to  them 

Quiet's  especial  temple. 

—  W.  G.  Sfmms. 

"Welcome  home,  Hannah!  welcome  home,  dearest  woman! 
IKTo  more  hard  work  now,  Hannah !  and  no  more  slaving  at  the 
everlasting  wheel  and  loom!  Nothing  to  do  but  your  own 
pretty  little  house  to  keep,  and  your  own  tidy  servant  girl  to 
look  after!  And  no  more  anxiety  about  the  future,  Hannah; 
for  you  have  me  to  love  you  and  care  for  you!  Ah,  dear  wife! 
this  is  a  day  I  have  looked  for'ard  to  through  all  the  gloom  and 
trouble  of  many  years.  Thank  God,  it  has  come  at  last,  more 
blessed  than  I  ever  hoped  it  would  be,  and  I  welcome  you  home, 
my  wife ! "  said  Reuben  Gray,  as  he  lifted  his  companion  from 
the  wagon,  embraced  her,  and  led  her  through  the  gate  into  the 
front  yard. 


THE    NEW    HOME.  311 

"  Oh,  you  dear,  good  Eeuben,  wliat  a  nice,  large  house  this 
is!  so  much  better  than  I  had  any  reason  to  expect,"  said  Han- 
nah, in  surprise  and  delight. 

"You'll  like  it  better  still  by  daylight,  my  dear,"  answered 
Gray. 

"  How  kind  you  are  to  me,  dear  Reuben." 

"It  shall  always  be  my  greatest  pleasure  to  be  so,  Hannah." 

A  negro  girl  at  this  moment  appeared  at  the  door  with  a  light, 
and  the  husband  and  wife  entered  the  house. 

Ishmael  sprang  down  from  his  seat,  stretched  his  cramped 
limbs,  and  gazed  about  him  with  all  the  curiosity  and  interest 
of  a  stranger  in  a  strange  scene. 

The  features  of  the  landscape,  as  dimly  discerned  by  star- 
light, were  simple  and  grand. 

Behind  him  lay  the  deep  forest  from  which  they  had  just 
emerged.  On  its  edge  stood  the  white  cottage,  surrounded  by 
its  garden.  Before  him  lay  the  open  country,  sloping  down  to 
the  banks  of  a  broad  river,  whose  dark  waves  glimmered  in 
the  starlight. 

So  this  was  Judge  Merlin's  estate — and  Claudia's  birthplace! 

"  Well,  Ishmael,  are  you  waiting  for  an  invitation  to  enter  ? 
"Why,  you  are  as  welcome  as  Hannah  herself,  and  you  couldn't 
he  more  so !  "  exclaimed  the  hearty  voice  of  Reuben  Gray,  as 
lie  returned  almost  immediately  after  taking  Hannah  in. 

"  I  know  it.  Uncle  Reuben.  You  are  very  good  to  me ;  and 
I  do  hope  to  make  myself  very  useful  to  you,"  replied  the  boy. 

"You'll  be  a  fortun'  to  me,  lad — an  ample  fortun'  to  me! 
But  why  don't  you  go  in  out  of  the  midnight  air?  You  ain't 
3ust  as  strong  as  Samson,  yet,  though  you're  agwine  to  be," 
said  Gray  cheerily. 

"I  only  stopped  to  stretch  my  limbs,  and — to  help  in  with 
the  luggage,"  said  Ishmael,  who  was  always  thoughtful,  practi- 
cal, and  useful,  and  who  now  stopped  to  load  himself  with  Han- 
nah's baskets  and  bundles  before  going  into  the  house. 

"Now,  then,  Sam,"  said  Gray,  turning  to  the  negro,  "look 
sharp  there!  Bring  in  the  trunks  and  boxes  from  the  light 
■wagon;  take  the  furniture  from  the  heavy  one,  and  pile  it  in. 
the  shed,  where  it  can  stay  until  morning;  put  both  on  'em 
under  cover,  feed  and  put  up  the  horses;  and  then  you  can  go 
to  your  quarters." 

The  negro  bestirred  himself  to  obey  these  orders,  and  Reuben 
Gray  and  Ishmael  entered  the  cottage  garden. 


312  ishmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

They  passed  up  a  gravel  walk  bordered  each,  side  with  lilac 
bushes,  and  entered  by  a  vine-shaded  porch  into  a  broad  pas- 
sage, that  ran  through  the  middle  of  the  house  from  the  front 
to  the  back  door. 

"  There  are  four  large  rooms  on  this  floor,  Ishmael,  and 
this  is  the  family  sitting  room,"  said  Gray,  opening  a  door  on 
his  right. 

It  was  a  very  pleasant  front  room,  with  a  bright  paper  on  its 
walls,  a  gay  homespun  carpet  on  the  floor;  pretty  chintz  cur- 
tains at  the  two  front  windows ;  chintz  covers  of  the  same  pat- 
tern on  the  two  easy-chairs  and  the  sofa;  a  bright  fire  burning 
in  the  open  fireplace,  and  a  neat  tea-table  set  out  ir,  the  middle 
of  the  floor. 

But  Hannah  was  nowhere  visible. 

"  She  has  gone  in  her  room,  Ishmael,  to  take  off  her  bonnet ; 
it  is  the  other  front  one  across  the  passage,  just  opposite  to 
this;  and  as  she  seems  to  be  taking  of  her  time,  I  may  as  well 
show  you  your'n,  Ishmael.  Just  drop  them  baskets  down  any- 
where, ^nd  come  with  me,  my  lad,"  said  Gray,  leading  the  way 
into  the  passage  and  up  the  staircase  to  the  second  floor.  Ar- 
rived there,  he  opened  a  door,  admitting  himself  and  his  com- 
panion into  a  chamber  immediately  over  the  sitting-room. 

"  This  is  your'n,  Ishmael,  and  I  hope  as  you'll  find  it  com- 
fortable and  make  yourself  at  home,"  said  Reuben,  hastily,  as 
he  introduced  Ishmael  to  this  room. 

It  was  more  rudely  furnished  than  the  one  below.  There 
was  no  carpet  except  the  strip  laid  down  by  the  bedside;  the 
bed  itseK  was  very  plain,  and  covered  with  a  patchwork  quilt; 
the  two  front  windows  were  shaded  with  dark  green  paper 
blinds;  and  the  black  walnut  bureau,  washstand,  and  chairs 
were  very  old.  Yet  all  was  scrupulously  clean;  and  everywhere 
were  evidences  that  the  kindly  care  of  Reuben  Gray  had  taken 
pains  to  discover  Ishmael's  habits  and  provide  for  his  neces- 
sities. For  instance,  just  between  the  front  windows  stood  an 
old-fashioned  piece  of  furniture,  half  book-case  and  half  writ- 
ing-desk, and  wholly  convenient,  containing  three  upper  shelves 
well  filled  with  books,  a  drawer  full  of  stationery,  and  a  closet 
for  waste  paper. 

Ishmael  walked  straight  up  to  this. 

"  Why,  where  did  you  get  this  escritoire,  and  all  these  books, 
TJncle  Reuben  ? "  he  inquired,  in  surprise. 

"Why,  you  see,  Ishmael,  the  screwtwar,  as  you  call  it,  was 


THE    NEW    HOME.  313 

iamong  the  old  furnitur'  sent  down  from  the  mansion-house 
here,  to  fit  up  this  place  when  I  first  came  into  it;  you  see,  the 
housekeeper  up  there  sends  the  cast-off  furniture  to  the  over- 
seer, same  as  she  sends  the  cast-off  finery  to  the  niggers." 

"  But  the  books.  Uncle  Reuben ;  they  are  all  law  books," 
said  the  boy,  examining  them. 

"Exactly;  and  that's  why  I  was  so  fort'nate  as  to  get  'em. 
Tou  see,  I  was  at  the  sale  at  Colonel  Mervin's  to  see  if  I  could 
pick  up  anything  nice  for  Hannah;  and  I  sees  a  lot  of  books 
sold — laws!  why,  the  story  books  all  went  off  like  wildfire;  but 
•when  it  come  to  these,  nobody  didn't  seem  to  want  'em.  So  I 
says  to  myself:  These  will  do  to  fill  up  the  empty  shelves  in 
the  screwtwar,  and  I  dare  say  as  our  Ishmael  would  vally  them. 
So  I  up  and  bought  the  lot  for  five  dollars;  and  sent  'em  up 
here  by  Sam,  with  orders  to  put  'em  in  the  screwtwar,  and 
move  the  screwtwar  out'n  the  sitting  room  into  this  room,  as 
I  intended  for  you." 

"  Ah,  Uncle  Reuben,  how  good  you  are  to  me !  Everybody 
is  good  to  me." 

"  Quite  nat'rel,  Ishmael,  since  you  are  useful  to  everybody. 
And  now,  my  lad,  I'll  go  and  send  Sam  up  with  your  box.  And 
when  you  have  freshed  up  a  bit  you  can  come  down  to  supper,'* 
said  Gray,  leaving  Ishmael  in  possession  of  his  room. 

In  a  few  minutes  after  the  negro  Sam  brought  in  the  box 
that  contained  all  Ishmael's  worldly  goods. 

"  Missus  Gray  say  how  the  supper  is  all  ready,  sir."  said  the 
man,  setting  down  the  box. 

As  Ishmael  was  also  quite  ready,  he  followed  the  negro  down- 
stairs into  the  sitting  room. 

Hannah  was  already  in  her  seat  at  the  head  of  the  table; 
while  behind  her  waited  a  neat  colored  girl.  Reuben  stood  at 
the  back  of  his  own  chair  at  the  foot  of  the  table,  waiting  for 
Ishmael  before  seating  himself.  Wlien  the  boy  took  his  own 
place,  Reuben  asked  a  blessing,  and  the  meal  commenced.  The 
tired  travelers  did  ample  justice  to  the  hot  coffee,  broiled  ham 
and  eggs  and  fresh  bread  and  butter  before  them. 

After  supper  they  separated  for  the  night. 

Ishmael  went  up  to  his  room  and  went  to  bed,  so  very  tired 
that  his  head  was  no  sooner  laid  upon  his  pillow  than  his  senses 
were  sunk  in  sleep. 

He  was  awakened  by  the  caroling  of  a  thousand  birds.  He 
started  up,  a  little  confused  at  first  by  finding  himself  in  a 


314  ishmael;  oe,  iisr  the  depths. 

strange  room;  but  as  memory  quickly  returned  he  sprang  from 
his  bed  and  went  and  drew  up  his  blind  and  looked  out  from 
his  window. 

It  was  early  morning;  the  sun  was  just  rising  and  flooding 
the  whole  landscape  with  light.  A  fine,  inspiring  scene  lay 
before  him — orchards  of  apple,  peach,  and  cherry  trees  in  full 
blossom;  meadows  of  white  and  red  clover;  fields  of  wheat  and 
rye,  in  their  pale  green  hue  of  early  growth ;  all  spreading  down- 
wards towards  the  banks  of  the  mighty  Potomac  that  here  in 
its  majestic  breadth  seemed  a  channel  of  the  sea;  while  far 
away  across  the  waters,  under  the  distant  horizon,  a  faint  blue 
line  marked  the  southern  shore. 

Sailing  up  and  down  the  mighty  river  were  ships  of  all  na- 
tions, craft  of  every  description,  from  the  three-decker  East 
India  merchantman,  going  or  returning  from  her  distant  voy- 
age, to  the  little  schooner-rigged  fishermen  trading  up  and 
down  the  coast.  These  were  the  sights.  The  songs  of  birds, 
the  low  of  cattle,  the  hxun  of  bees,  and  the  murmur  of  the  water 
as  it  washed  the  sands — these  were  the  sounds.    All  the  joyous 

life  of  land,  water,  and  sky  seemed  combined  at  this  spot  and 

visible  from  this  window. 

"  This  is  a  pleasant  place  to  live  in ;  thank  the  Lord  for  it ! " 
said  Ishmael  fervently,  as  he  stood  gazing  from  the  window. 

iNot  long,  however,  did  the  youth  indulge  his  love  of  nature; 

he  turned  away,  washed  and  dressed  himself  quickly  and  went 

downstairs  to  see  if  he  could  be  useful. 

The  windows  were  open  in  the  sitting  room,  which  was  filled 

■with   the    refreshing    fragrance    of    the   lilacs.'    The    breakast 

table  was  set ;  and  Phillis,  the  colored  girl,  was  bringing  in  the 

coffee.     Almost  at  the  same  moment  Hannah  entered  from  the 

kitchen  and  Reuben  from  the  garden. 

"  Good-morning,   Ishmael !  "   said   Reuben  gayly.     "  How   do 

you  like  Woodside?     Woodside  is  the  name  of  our  little  home, 

same  as  Tanglewood  is  the  name  of  the  judge's  house,  a  half 

a  mile  back  in  the  forest,  you  know.    How  do  you  like  it  by 

daylight?" 

"  Oh,   very  much,   indeed,   uncle.     Don't  you  like   it.   Aunt 

Hannah  ?     Isn't  it  pleasant  ? "  exclaimed  the  youth,  appealing 

to  Mrs.  Gray. 

"  Very  pleasant,  indeed,  Ishmael !  "  she  said.    "  Ah,  Reuben,'' 

she  continued,  turning  to  her  husband,  "  you  never  let  me  guess 

wiiat  a  delightful  home  you  were  bringing  me  to !    I  had  no  idea 


THE    NEW    HOME.  315 

\mt  that  it  was  just  like  the  cottages  of  other  overseers  that  I 
have  known — a  little  house  of  two  or  three  small  rooms." 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha !  "  laughed  Gray,  "  I  knew  you  too  well,  Hannah ! 
I  knew  if  I  had  let  you  know  how  well  off  I  was,  you  would  never 
have  taken  me;  your  pride  would  have  been  up  in  arms  and 
you  would  have  thought  besides  as  how  I  was  comfortable 
enough  without  you,  which  would  have  been  an  idee  as  I  never 
could  have  got  out  of  your  head !  No,  Hannah,  I  humored  your 
pride,  and  let  you  think  as  how  you  were  marrying  of  a  poor, 
miserable,  desolate  old  man,  as  would  be  apt  to  die  of  neglect 
and  privations  if  you  didn't  consent  to  come  and  take  care  of 
him.  And  then  I  comforted  myself  with  thinking  what  a  pleas- 
ant surprise  I  had  in  store  for  you  when  I  should  fetch  you 
here.  Enjoy  yourself,  dear  woman!  for  there  isn't  a  thing  as 
I  have  done  to  this  house  I  didn't  do  for  your  sake !  " 

"  But,  Reuben,  how  is  it  that  you  have  so  much  better  a 
house  than  other  men  of  your  station  ever  have  ? " 

"  Well,  Hannah,  my  dear,  it  is  partly  accident  and  partly  de- 
sign in  the  judge.  You  see,  this  house  used  to  be  the  mansion 
of  the  planters  theirselves,  until  the  present  master,  when  he 
was  first  married,  built  the  great  house  back  in  the  woods,  and 
then,  'stead  of  pulling  this  one  down,  he  just  'pointed  it  to 
be  the  dwelling  of  the  overseer;  for  it  is  the  pleasure  of  the 
judge  to  make  all  his  people  as  comfortable  as  it  is  possible 
for  them  to  be,"  answered  Reuben.  As  he  spoke,  Phillis  placed 
the  last  dish  upon  the  table,  and  they  all  took  their  seats  and 
commenced  breakfast. 

As  soon  as  the  meal  was  over,  Ishmael  said: 

*'  Now,  Uncle  Reuben,  if  you  will  give  me  those  farm  books 
you  were  wanting  me  to  arrange,  I  will  make  a  commence- 
ment." 

"  No,  you  won't,  Ishmael,  my  lad.  You  have  worked  yourself 
nearly  to  death  this  winter  and  spring,  and  now,  please  the 
Lord,  you  shall  do  no  more  work  for  a  month.  When  I  picked 
you  up  for  dead  that  day,  I  promised  the  Almighty  Father  to 
be  a  father  to  you;  so,  Ishmael,  you  must  regard  me  as  such, 
when  I  tell  you  that  you  are  to  let  the  books  alone  for  a  whole 
month  longer,  until  your  health  is  restored.  So  just  get  your 
hat  and  come  with  us;  I  am  going  to  show  your  aunt  over 
the  place." 

Ishmael  smiled  and  obeyed.  And  all  three  went  out  together. 
And  oh!  with  how  much  pride  Reuben  displayed  the  treasures 


316  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN   THE    DEPTHS. 

of  her  little  place  to  his  long-loved  Hannah.  He  showed  her 
her  cows  and  pigs  and  sheep;  and  her  turkeys  and  geese  and 
h.ens;  and  her  beehives  and  garden  and  orchard. 

"  And  this  isn't  all,  either,  Hannah,  my  dear !  We  can  have 
as  much  as  we  want  for  family  use,  of  all  the  rare  fruits  and 
v^etables  from  the  greenhouses  and  hotbeds  up  at  Tangle- 
wood;  and,  besides  that,  we  have  the  freedom  of  the  fisheries 
and  the  oyster  beds,  too;  so  you  see,  my  dear,  you  will  live  like 
any  queen !  Thank  the  Lord !  "  said  Keuben,  reverently  raising 
Ids  hat. 

"And  oh,  Eeuben,  to  think  that  you  should  have  saved  all 
i;his  happiness  for  me,  poor,  faded,  unworthy  me ! "  sighed  his 
"wife. 

"  Why,  law,  Hannah,  who  else  should  I  have  saved  it  for  but 
my  own  dear  old  sweetheart?  I  never  so  much  as  thought  of 
•another." 

"  With  all  these  comforts  about  you,  you  might  have  married 
some  blooming  young  girl." 

"  Lord,  dear  woman,  I  ha'n't  much  lamin',  nor  much  religion, 
more's  the  pity;  but  I  hope  I  have  conscience  enough  to  keep 
me  from  doing  any  young  girl  so  cruel  a  wrong  as  to  tempt  her 
to  throw  away  her  youth  and  beauty  on  an  old  man  like  me; 
and  I  am  sure  I  have  sense  enough  to  prevent  me  from  doing 
myself  so  great  an  injustice  as  to  buy  a  young  wife,  who,  in 
the  very  natur'  of  things,  would  be  looking  for'ard  to  my  death 
as  the  beginning  of  her  life ;  for  I've  heard  as  how  the  very  life 
of  a  woman  is  love,  and  if  the  girl-wife  cannot  love  her  old 

husband Oh,  Hannah,  let  us  drop  the  veil — the  pictur'  is 

too  sickening  to  look  at.  Such  marriages  are  crimes.  Ah,  Han- 
nah, in  the  way  of  sweethearting,  age  may  love  youth,  but 
youth  can't  love  age.  And  another  thing  I  am  sartin'  sure  of — 
as  a  young  girl  is  a  much  more  delicate  cre'tur'  than  a  young 
man,  it  must  be  a  great  deal  harder  for  her  to  marry  an  old 
man  than  it  would  be  for  him  to  marry  an  old  woman,  though 
either  would  be  horrible." 

"  You  seem  to  have  found  this  out  somehow,  Eeuben." 

"  Well,  yes,  my  dear ;  it  was  along  of  a  rich  old  fellow,  here- 
away, as  fell  in  love  with  my  little  Kitty's  rosy  cheeks  and  black 
eyes,  and  wanted  to  make  her  Mrs.  Barnabas  Winterberry. 
And  I  saw  how  that  girl  was  at  the  same  time  tempted  by 
his  money  and  frightened  by  his  age ;  and  how  in  her  bewit<;hed 
state,  half-drawn  and  half-scared^,  she  fluttered  about  him,  for 


THE   I^W   HOME.  317 

all  tte  world  like  a  humming-bird  going  right  into  the  jaws  of 
a  rattlesnake.  Well,  I  questioned  little  Kitty,  and  she  answered 
me  in  this  horrid  way — '  Why,  brother,  he  must  know  I  can't 
love  him;  for  how  can  I?  But  still  he  teases  me  to  marry  him, 
and  I  can  do  that ;  and  why  shouldn't  I,  if  he  wants  me  to  ? ' 
Then  in  a  whisper — '  You  know,  brother,  it  wouldn't  be  for 
ilong ;  because  he  is  ever  so  old,  and  he  would  soon  die ;  and  then 
I  should  be  a  rich  young  widow,  and  have  my  pick  and  choose 
out  of  the  best  young  men  in  the  country  side.'  Such,  Hannah, 
was  the  evil  state  of  feeling  to  which  that  old  man's  courtship 
liad  brought  my  simple  little  sister !  And  I  believe  in  my  soul 
it  is  the  natural  state  of  feeling  into  which  every  young  girl 
falls  who  marries  an  old  man." 

"  That  is  terrible,  Eeuben." 

"  Sartinly  it  is." 

"  What  did  you  say  to  your  sister  ? '' 

"  Why,  I  didn't  spare  the  feelings  of  little  Kitty,  nor  her 
doting  suitor's  nyther,  and  that  I  can  tell  you !  I  talked  to  lit- 
tle Kitty  like  a  father  and  mother,  both;  I  told  her  well  what 
a  young  traitress  she  was  a-planning  to  be;  and  how  she  was 
fooling  herself  worse  than  she  was  deceiving  her  old  beau,  who 
had  got  into  the  whit-leather  age,  and  would  be  sartin'  sure  to 
live  twenty-five  or  thirty  years  longer,  till  she  would  be  an  old 
woman  herself,  and  I  so  frightened  her,  by  telling  her  the  plain 
truth  in  the  plainest  words,  that  she  shrank  from  seeing  her 
old  lover  any  more,  and  begged  me  to  send  him  about  his  busi- 
ness. And  I  did,  too,  '  with  a  flea  in  his  ear,'  as  the  saying  is ; 
for  I  repeated  to  him  every  word  as  little  Kitty  had  said  to  me, 
as  a  warning  to  him  for  the  futur'  not  to  go  tempting  any  more 
young  girls  to  marry  him  for  his  money  and  then  wish  hin^  dead 
for  the  enjoyment  of  it." 

"  I  hope  it  did  him  good." 

"  Why,  Hannah,  he  went  right  straight  home,  and  that  same 
day  married  his  fat,  middle-aged  housekeeper,  who,  to  tell  the 
solemn  truth,  he  ought  to  have  married  twenty  years  before! 
And  as  for  little  Kitty,  thank  Heaven !  she  was  soon  sought  as 
a  wife  by  a  handsome  young  fellow,  who  was  suited  to  her  in 
every  way,  and  who  really  did  love  her  and  win  her  love;  and 
they  were  married  and  went  to  Califomy,  as  I  told  you.  Well, 
after  I  was  left  alone,  the  neighboring  small  farmers  with  un- 
provid^  daughters,  seeing  how  comfortable  I  was  fixed,  would 
often  say  to  me — '  Gray,  you  ought  to  marry.'     *  Gray,  why 


318  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

don't  you  marry  ? '  *  Gray,  your  nice  little  place  only  needs  one 
thing  to  make  it  perfect,  a  nice  little  wife.'  '  Why  don't  you 
drop  in  and  see  the  girls  some  evening,  Gray?  They  would 
always  be  glad  to  see  you.'  And  all  that.  I  tmderstood  it  all, 
Hannah,  my  dear ;  but  I  didn't  want  any  young  girls  who  would 
marry  me  only  for  a  home.  And,  besides,  the  Lord  knows  I 
never  thought  of  any  woman,  young  or  old,  except  yourself,  who 
was  my  first  love  and  my  only  one,  and  whose  whole  life  was 
mixed  up  with  my  own,  as  close  as  ever  warp  and  woof  was 
"woven  in  your  webs,  Hannah." 

"  You  have  been  more  faithful  to  me  than  I  deserved,  Reu- 
ben ;  but  I  will  try  to  make  you  happy,"  said  Hannah,  with 
much  emotion. 

"  You  do  make  me  happy,  dear,  without  trying.  And  now 
•where  is  Ishmael  ? "  inquired  Reuben,  who  never  in  his  own 
content  forgot  the  welfare  of  others. 

Ishmael  was  walking  slowly  and  thoughtfully  at  some  dis- 
tance behind  them.     Reuben  called  after  him: 

"  Walk  up,  my  lad.  We  are  going  in  to  dinner  now;  we  dine 
at  noon,  you  know." 

Ishmael,  who  had  lingered  behind  from  the  motives  of  deli- 
cacy that  withheld  him  from  intruding  on  the  confidential  con- 
versation of  the  newly-married  pair,  now  quickened  his  steps 
and  joined  them,  saying,  with  a  smile : 

"  Uncle  Reuben,  when  you  advised  me  not  to  study  for  a 
•whole  month  you  did  not  mean  to  counsel  me  to  rust  in  idleness 
for  four  long  weeks?  I  must  work,  and  I  wish  you  would  put 
me  to  that  which  will  be  the  most  useful  to  you." 

"  And  most  benefital  to  your  own  health,  my  boy !  What 
would  you  say  to  fishing  ?    Would  that  meet  your  wishes  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  should  like  that  very  much,  if  I  could  really  be  of  use 
in  that  way,  Uncle  Reuben,"  said  the  youth. 

"  Why,  of  course  you  could ;  now  I'll  tell  you  what  you  can 
do;  you  can  go  this  afternoon  with  Sam  in  the  sailboat  as  far 
down  the  river  as  Silver  Sands,  where  he  hopes  to  hook  some 
fine  rock  fish.    Would  that  meet  your  views  ?  " 

"  Exactly,"  laughed  Ishmael,  as  his  eyes  danced  with  the 
eagerness  of  youth  for  the  sport. 

They  went  into  the  house,  where  Phillis  had  prepared  a  nice 
dinner,  of  bacon  and  sprouts  and  apple  dumplings,  which  the 
whole  party  relished. 

Afterwards  Ishmael  started  on  his  first  fishing  voyage  witK 


ishmael's  spruggles.  319 

Sam.  And  though  it  was  a  short  one,  it  had  for  him  all  the 
charms  of  novelty  added  to  the  excitement  of  sport,  and  he  en- 
joyed the  excursion  excessively.  The  fishing  was  very  success- 
ful, and  they  filled  their  little  boat  and  got  back  home  by  sun- 
set. At  supper  Ishmael  gave  a  full  account  of  the  expedition 
and  received  the  hearty  congratulations  of  Reuben.  And  thus 
ended  the  holiday  of  their  first  day  at  home. 

The  next  morning  Reuben  Gray  went  into  the  fields  to  re- 
sume his  oversight  of  his  employer's  estate. 

Hannah  turned  in  to  housework,  and  had  all  the  furniture 
she  had  brought  from  the  hill  hut  moved  into  the  cottage  and 
arranged  in  one  of  the  empty  rooms  upstairs. 

Ishmael,  forbidden  to  study,  employed  himself  in  useful 
manual  labor  in  the  garden  and  in  the  fields. 

And  thus  in  cheerful  industry  passed  the  early  days  of 
spring. 

CHAPTER  XXXVin. 

ishmael's  struggles. 

Tet  must  my  brow  be  paler!    I  have  vowed 

To  clip  it  with  the  crown  that  shall  not  fade 

When  it  is  faded.     Not  in  vain  ye  cry, 

Oh,  glorious  voices,  that  survive  the  tongue 

From  whence  was  drawn  your  separate  sovereignty, 

For  I  would  stand  beside  you! 

— E.  B.  Browning. 

Ishmael  continued  his  work,  yet  resumed  his  studies.  He 
managed  to  do  both  in  this  way — all  the  forenoon  he  delved 
in  the  garden;  all  the  afternoon  he  went  over  the  chaotic  ac- 
count-books of  Reuben  Gray,  to  bring  them  into  order;  and  all 
the  evening  he  studied  in  his  own  room.  He  kept  up  his 
Greek  and  Latin.    And  he  read  law. 

No  time  to  dream  of  Claudia  now. 

One  of  the  wisest  of  our  modern  philosophers  says  that  we 
are  sure  to  meet  with  the  right  book  at  the  right  time.  Now 
"whether  it  were  chance,  fate,  or  Providence  that  filled  the  scanty 
shelves  of  the  old  escritoire  with  a  few  law  books,  is  not  known ; 
but  it  is  certain  that  their  presence  there  decided  the  career  of 
Ishmael  Worth. 

As  a  young  babe,  whose  sole  object  in  life  is  to  feed,  pops 
everything  it  can  get  hold  of  into  its  mouth,  so  this  youthful 
aspirant,  whose  master-passion  was  the  love  of  learning,  read 


320  ishjiael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

€ver3i;liing  lie  could  lay  his  hands  on.  Prompted  by  that  in- 
tellectual  curiosity  "vrhich  ever  stimulated  him  to  examine  every 
subject  that  fell  under  his  notice,  Ishmael  looked  into  the  law 
books.  They  were  mere  text-books,  probably  the  discarded 
property  of  some  young  student  of  the  Mervin  family,  who  had 
never  got  beyond  the  rudiments  of  the  profession ;  but  had  aban- 
doned it  as  a  "  diy  study." 

Ishmael  did  not  find  it  so,  however.  The  same  ardent  soul, 
strong  mind,  and  bright  spirit  that  had  found  "  dry  history " 
an  inspiring  heroic  poem,  "  dry  grammar  "  a  beautiful  analysis 
of  language,  now  found  "  dry  law "  the  intensely  interesting 
science  of  human  justice.  Ishmael  read  diligently,  for  the  love 
of  his  subject! — at  first  it  was  only  for  the  love  of  his  subject, 
but  after  a  few  weeks  of  study  he  began  to  read  with  a  fitted 
pui-pose — to  become  a  lawyer.  Of  course  Ishmael  Worth  was 
no  longer  unconscious  of  his  own  great  intellectual  power;  he 
had  measured  himself  with  the  best  educated  youth  of  the 
highest  rank,  and  he  had  found  himself  in  mental  strength  their 
master.  So  when  he  resolved  to  become  a  la'n-yer,  he  felt  a 
just  confidence  that  he  should  make  a  very  able  one.  Of  course, 
■with  his  clear  perceptions  and  profound  reflections  he  saw  all 
the  great  difficulties  in  his  way;  but  they  did  not  dismay  him. 
His  will  was  as  strong  as  his  intellect,  and  he  knew  that,  com- 
bined, they  would  work  wonders,  almost  miracles. 

Indeed,  without  strength  of  will,  intellect  is  of  very  little 
effect;  for  if  intellect  is  the  eye  of  the  soul,  will  is  the  hand; 
intellect  is  wisdom,  but  will  is  power;  intellect  may  be  the  mon- 
arch, but  will  is  the  executive  minister.  How  often  we  see  men 
of  the  finest  intellect  fail  in  life  through  weakness  of  will! 
How  often  also  we  see  men  of  very  moderate  intellect  succeed 
through  strength  of  will! 

In  Ishmael  Worth  intellect  and  will  were  equally  strong. 
And  when  in  that  poor  chamber  he  set  himself  down  to  study 
law,  upon  his  own  account,  with  the  resolution  to  master  the 
profession  and  to  distinguish  himself  in  it,  he  did  so  with  the 
full  consciousness  of  the  magnitude  of  the  object  and  of  his 
own  power  to  attain  it.  Day  after  day  he  worked  hard,  night 
after  night  he  studied  diligently. 

Ishmael  did  not  think  this  a  hardship;  he  did  not  murmur 
over  his  poverty,  privations,  and  toil ;  no,  for  his  own  bright  and 
beautiful  spirit  turned  everything  to  light  and  loveliness.  He 
did  not,  indeed,  in  the  pride  of  the  Pharisee,  thank  God  that 


tshmael's  struggles.  321 

he  was  not  as  other  men;  but  he  did  feel  too  deeply  grateful 
for  the  intellectual  power  bestowed  upon  him,  to  murmur  at 
the  circumstances  that  made  it  so  difficult  to  cultivate  that 
glorious  gift. 

One  afternoon,  while  they  were  all  at  tea,  Reuben  Gray  said: 

"  Now,  Ishmael,  my  lad,  Hannah  and  me  are  going  over  to 
spend  the  evening  at  Brovra's,  who  is  overseer  at  Rushy  Shore; 
and  you  might's  well  go  with  us ;  there's  a  nice  lot  o'  gals  there. 
What  do  you  say  ?  " 

"  Thank  you.  Uncle  Reuben,  but  I  wish  to  read  this  evening,'* 
said  the  youth. 

"  Now,  Ishmael,  what  for  should  you  slave  yourself  to  death  V* 

"  I  don't,  uncle.  I  work  hard,  it  is  true ;  but  then,  you  know, 
youth  is  the  time  for  work,  and  besides  I  like  it,"  said  the  young 
fellow  cheerfully. 

"  Well,  but  after  hoeing  and  weeding  and  raking  and  plant- 
ing in  the  garden  all  the  morning,  and  bothering  your  brains 
over  them  distracting  'count  books  all  the  afternoon,  what's  the 
good  of  your  going  and  poring  over  them  stupid  books  all 
the  evening  ? " 

"  You  will  see  the  good  of  it  some  of  these  days.  Uncle  Reu- 
ben," laughed  Ishmael. 

"  You  will  wear  yourself  out  before  that  day  comes,  my  boy, 
if  you  are  not  careful,"  answered  Reuben. 

"  I  always  said  the  fetched  books  would  be  his  ruin,  and  now 
I  know  it,"  put  in  Hannah. 

Ishmael  laughed  good-humoredly ;  but  Reuben  sighed. 

"  Ishmael,  my  lad,"  he  said,  "  if  you  must  read,  do,  pray,  read 
in  the  forenoon,  instead  of  working  in  the  garden." 

"  But  what  will  become  of  the  garden  ? "  inquired  Ishmael, 
with  gravity. 

"  Oh,  I  can  put  one  of  the  nigger  boys  into  it." 

"And  have  to  pay  for  his  time  and  not  have  the  work  half 
done  at  last." 

"  Well,  I  had  rather  it  be  so,  than  you  should  slave  yourself 
to  death." 

"  Oh,  but  I  do  not  slave  myself  to  death !  T  like  to  work  in 
the  garden,  and  I  am  never  happier  than  when  I  am  engaged 
there;  the  garden  is  beautiful,  and  the  care  of  it  is  a  great 
pleasure  as  well  as  a  great  benefit  to  me;  it  gives  me  all  the 
outdoor  exercise  and  recreation  that  I  require  to  enable  me  to 
sit  at  my  writing  or  reading  all  the  rest  of  the  day." 


322  ishmael;  oe,  n^  the  depths. 

"  Ah,  Ishmael,  my  lad,  who  would  think  work  was  recreation 
except  you?  But  it  is  your  goodness  of  heart  that  turns  every 
duty  into  a  delight,"  said  Reuben  Gray;  and  he  was  not  very 
far  from  the  truth. 

"  It  is  his  obstinacy  as  keeps  him  everlasting  a-working  him- 
self to  death!  Reuben  Gray,  Ishmael  Worth  is  one  of  the  ob- 
stinatest  boys  that  ever  you  set  your  eyes  on!  He  has  beeu 
obstinate  ever  since  he  was  a  baby,"  said  Hannah  angrily.  And 
her  mind  reverted  to  that  old  time  when  the  infant  Ishmael 
would  live  in  defiance  of  everybody. 

"  I  do  believe  as  Ishmael  would  be  as  firm  as  a  rock  in  a  good 
cause;  but  I  don't  believe  that  he  could  be  obstinate  in  a  bad 
one,"  said  Reuben  decidedly. 

"  Yes,  he  could !  else  why  does  he  persist  in  staying  home 
this  evening  when  we  want  him  to  go  with  us  ? "  complained 
Hannah. 

Now,  strength  of  will  is  not  necessarily  self-will.  Firmness 
of  purpose  is  not  always  implacability.  The  strong  need  not 
be  violent  in  order  to  prove  their  strength.  And  Ishmael, 
firmly  resolved  as  he  was  to  devote  every  hour  of  his  leisure  to 
study,  knew  very  well  when  to  make  an  exception  to  his  rule, 
and  sacrifice  his  inclinations  to  his  duty.     So  he  answered : 

"  Aunt  Hannah,  if  you  really  desire  me  to  go  with  you,  I  will 
do  so  of  course." 

"  I  want  you  to  go  because  I  think  you  stick  too  close  to  your 
books,  you  stubborn  fellow;  and  because  I  know  you  haven't 
been  out  anywhere  for  the  last  two  months;  and  because  I  be- 
lieve it  would  do  you  good  to  go,"  said  Mrs,  Gray, 

"  All  right,  Aunt  Hannah,  I  will  run  upstairs  and  dress," 
laughed  Ishmael,  leaving  the  tea-table, 

"  And  be  sure  you  put  on  your  gold  watch  and  chain,"  called 
out  Hannah, 

Hannah  also  arose  and  went  to  her  room  to  change  her  plain 
brown  calico  gown  for  a  fine  black  silk  dress  and  mantle  that 
had  been  Reuben  Gray's  nuptial  present  to  her,  and  a  straw 
bonnet  trimmed  with  blue. 

In  a  few  minutes  Ishmael,  neatly  attired,  joined  her  in  the 
parlor. 

"  Have  you  put  on  your  watch,  Ishmael  ? " 

"  Yes,  Aunt  Hannah ;  but  I'm  wearing  it  on  a  guard.  I  don't 
like  to  wear  the  chain;  it  is  too  showy  for  my  circumstances. 
You  wear  it,  Avmt  Hannah;  and  always  wear  it  when  you  go 


ishmael's  struggles.  323 

out;  it  looks  beautiful  over  your  black  silk  dress,"  said  Ish- 
mael,  as  he  put  the  chain  around  Mrs.  Gray's  neck  and  contem- 
plated the  eifect. 

"  What  a  good  boy  you  are !  "  said  Hannah ;  but  she  would 
not  have  been  a  woman  if  she  had  not  been  pleased  with  the 
decoration. 

Reuben  Gray  came  in,  arrayed  in  his  Sunday  suit,  and  smiled 
to  see  how  splendid  Hannah  was,  and  then  drawing  his  wife's 
arm  proudly  within  his  own,  and  calling  Ishmael  to  accom- 
pany them,  set  off  to  walk  a  mile  farther  up  the  river  and  spend 
a  festive  evening  with  his  brother  overseer.  They  had  a  pleas- 
ant afternoon  stroll  along  the  pebbly  beach  of  the  broad  waters. 
They  sauntered  at  their  leisure,  watching  the  ships  sail  up  or 
down  the  river;  looking  at  the  sea-fowl  dart  up  from  the  reeds 
and  float  far  away;  glancing  at  the  little  fish  leaping  up  and 
disappearing  in  the  waves;  and  pausing  once  in  a  while  to 
pick  up  a  pretty  shell  or  stone;  and  so  at  last  they  reached  the 
cottage  of  the  overseer  Brown,  which  stood  just  upon  the  point 
of  a  little  promontory  that  jutted  out  into  the  river. 

They  spent  a  social  evening  with  the  overseer  and  his  wife 
and  their  half  a  dozen  buxom  boys  and  girls.  And  about  ten 
o'clock  they  walked  home  by  starlight. 

Twice  a  week  Reuben  Gray  went  up  the  river  to  a  little 
waterside  hamlet  called  Shelton  to  meet  the  mail.  Reuben's 
only  correspondent  was  his  master,  who  wrote  occasionally  to 
make  inquiries  or  to  give  orders.  The  day  after  his  evening  out 
was  the  regular  day  for  Reuben  to  go  to  the  post  office. 

So  immediately  after  breakfast  Reuben  mounted  the  white 
cob  which  he  usually  rode  and  set  out  for  Shelton. 

He  was  gone  about  two  hours,  and  returned  with  a  most  per- 
plexed countenance.  iNow  "  the  master's  "  correspondence  had 
always  been  a  great  bother  to  Reuben.  It  took  him  a  long  time 
to  spell  out  the  letters  and  a  longer  time  to  indite  the  answers. 
So  the  arrival  of  a  letter  was  always  sure  to  unsettle  him  for 
a  day  or  two.  Still,  that  fact  did  not  account  for  the  great 
disturbance  of  mind  in  which  he  reached  home  and  entered  the 
family  sitting-room. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Reuben  ?  Any  bad  news  ?  "  anxiously 
inquired  Hannah. 

"N-n-o,  not  exactly  bad  news;  but  a  very  bad  bother,"  said 
Gray,  sitting  down  in  the  big  arm-chair  and  wiping  the  per- 
spiration from  his  heated  face. 


324      ishmael;  or,  h^  the  depths. 

"  What  is  it,  Reuben  ? "  pursued  Hannah. 

"  Where's  Ishmael  ? "  inquired  Gray,  without  attempting  to 
answer  her  question. 

"  Working  in  the  garden,  of  course.  But  why  can't  you  tell 
me  what's  the  matter  ?  " 

"  Botheration  is  the  matter,  Hannah,  my  dear.  Just  go  call 
Ishmael  to  me." 

Hannah  left  the  house  to  comply  with  his  request,  and  Reu- 
ben sat  and  wiped  his  face  and  pondered  over  his  perplexities. 
Reuben  had  lately  grown  to  rely  very  much  upon  Ishmael's 
judgment,  and.  to  appeal  to  him  in  all  his  difficulties.  So  he 
looked  up  in  confidence  as  the  youth  entered  with  Plannah. 

"  What  is  it.  Uncle  Reuben  ?  "  inquired  the  boy  cheerfully. 

"  The  biggest  botheration  as  ever  was,  Ishmael,  my  lad ! " 
answered  Gray. 

"  Well,  take  a  mug  of  cool  cider  to  refresh  yourself,  and  then 
tell  me  all  about  it,"  said  Ishmael. 

Hannah  ran  and  brought  the  invigorating  drink,  and  after 
quaffing  it  Gray  drew  a  long  breath  and  said : 

"  Why,  I've  got  the  botherationest  letter  from  the  judge  as 
ever  was.  He  says  how  he  has  sent  down  a  lot  of  books,  as  will 
be  landed  at  our  landing  by  the  schooner  '  Canvas  Back,'  Capt'n 
Miller;  and  wants  me  to  take  the  cart  and  go  and  receive  them, 
and  carry  them  up  to  the  house,  and  ask  the  housekeeper 
for  the  keys  of  the  liber-airy  and  put  them  in  there,"  said  Reu- 
ben, pausing  for  breath. 

"  Why,  that  is  not  much  bother,  Uncle  Reuben.  Let  me  go 
and  get  the  books  for  you,"  smiled  Ishmael. 

"  Law,  it  aint  that ;  for  I  don't  s'pose  it's  much  more  troubl© 
to  cart  books  than  it  is  to  cart  bricks.  You  didn't  hear  me  out : 
After  I  have  got  the  botheration  things  into  the  liber-airy,  he 
wants  me  to  unpack  them,  and  also  take  down  the  books  as  is 
there  already,  and  put  the  whole  lot  on  'em  in  the  middle  of 
the  floor,  and  then  pick  'em  out  and  'range  'em  all  in  separate 
lots,  like  one  would  sort  vegetables  for  market,  and  put  each 
sort  all  together  on  a  different  shelf,  and  then  write  all  their 
names  in  a  book,  all  regular  and  in  exact  order!  There,  now, 
that's  the  work  as  the  judge  has  cut  out  for  me,  as  well  as  I 
can  make  out  his  meaning  from  his  hard  words  and  crabbed 
hand;  and  I  no  moi'e  fit  to  do  it  nor  I  am  to  write  a  sarmon, 
or  to  build  a  ship;  and  if  that  aint  enough  to  bother  a  man's 
brains  I  don't  know  what  is,  that's  all." 


isiijiael's  struggles.  325 

"  But  it  Is  no  part  of  your  duty  as  overseer  to  act  as  his 
librarian,"  said  Ishmael. 

"  I  know  it  aint;  but,  you  see,  the  judge  he  pays  me  liberal, 
and  he  gives  me  a  fust-rate  house  and  garden,  and  the  liberty 
of  his  own  orchards  and  vineyards,  and  a  great  many  other 
privileges  besides,  and  he  expects  me  to  'commodate  him  in 
turn  by  doing  of  little  things  as  isn't  exactly  in  the  line  of  my 
duty,"  answered  Gray. 

"  But,"  demurred  Ishmael,  "  he  ought  to  have  known  that 
you  were  not  precisely  fitted  for  this  new  task  he  has  set  you." 

"Well,  my  lad,  he  didn't;  'cause,  you  see,  the  gals  as  I  edi- 
cated,  you  know,  they  did  everything  for  me  as  required  lam- 
ing, like  writing  letters  and  keeping  'counts;  and  as  for  little 
Kitty,  she  used  to  do  them  beautiful,  for  Kitty  was  real  clever; 
and  I  do  s'pose  the  judge  took  it  for  granted  as  the  work  was 
all  my  own,  and  so  he  thinks  I  can  do  this  job  too.  Now,  if 
the  parish  school  wa'n't  broke  up  for  the  holidays,  I  might  get 
the  schoolmaster  to  do  it  for  me  and  pay  him  for  it;  but,  you 
see,  he  is  gone  North  to  visit  his  mother  and  he  won't  be  back 
until  September,  so  the  mischief  knows  what  I  shall  do.  I 
thought  I'd  just  ask  your  advice,  Ishmael,  because  you  have 
got  such  a  wonderful  head  of  your  own." 

"  Thank  you.  Uncle  Eeuben.  Don't  you  be  the  least  dis- 
tressed. I  can  do  what  is  required  to  be  done,  and  do  it  in  a 
manner  that  shall  give  satisfaction,  too,"  said  Ishmael. 

"You!  you,  my  boy!  could  you  do  that  everlasting  big 
botheration  of  a  job  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  do  it  well,  I  hope." 

"  ^Yhy,  I  don't  believe  the  professor  himself  could ! "  ex- 
claimed Gray,  in  incredulous  astonishment. 

"  Nor  I,  either,"  laughed  Ishmael ;  "  but  I  know  that  I  can.'* 

"  But,  my  boy,  it  is  such  a  task ! " 

"I  should  like  it,  of  all  things.  Uncle  Reuben!  You  could 
not  give  me  a  greater  treat  than  the  privilege  of  overhauling 
all  those  books  and  putting  them  in  order  and  making  the  cata- 
logue," said  the  youth  eagerly. 

And  besides  he  was  going  to  Claudia's  house ! 

Eeuben  looked  more  and  more  astonished  as  Ishmael  wem: 
on ;  but  Hannah  spoke  up : 

"You  may  believe  him,  Reuben!  He  is  book-mad;  and  it 
is  my  opinion,  that  when  he  gets  into  that  musty  old  library, 
among  the  dusty  books,  he  will  fancy  himself  in  heaven." 


32(5  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

Reuben  looked  from  the  serious  face  of  Hannah  to  the  smil- 
ing eyes  of  Ishmael,  and  inquired  doubtfully : 

"  Is  that  the  truth,  my  boy  ?  " 

"  Something  very  near  it,  Uncle  Reuben,"  answered  Ishmael. 

"  Very  well,  my  lad,"  exclaimed  the  greatly  relieved  overseer, 
gleefully  slapping  his  knees,  "  very  well !  as  sure  as  you  are 
born,  you  shall  go  to  your  heaven." 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

ISHMAEL  IN  TANGLEWOOD. 

Into  a  forest  far,  they  thence  him  led 

"Where  stood  the  mansion  in  a  pleasant  glade, 

With  great  hills  round  about  environed 

And  mighty  woods  which  did  the  valley  shade, 

And  like  a  stately  theater  it  made, 

Spreading  itself  into  a  spacious  plain, 

And  in  the  midst  a  little  river  played  , 

Amongst  the  pumy  stones  which  seemed  to  'plain 

With  gentle  murmur  that  his  course  they  did  restrain. 

— Spenser. 

The  next  morning  Ishmael  Worth  went  down  to  the  shore, 
carrying  a  spy-glass  to  look  out  for  the  "  Canvas  Back."  There 
was  no  certainty  about  the  passing  of  these  sailing  packets; 
a  dead  cahn  or  a  head  wind  might  delay  them  for  days  and  even 
weeks;  but  on  this  occasion  there  was  no  disappointment  and 
no  delay,  the  wind  had  been  fair  and  the  little  schooner  was 
seen  flying  before  it  up  the  river.  Ishmael  seated  himself  upon 
the  shore  and  drew  a  book  from  his  pocket  to  study  while  he 
waited  for  the  arrival  of  the  schooner.  In  less  than  an  hour 
she  dropped  anchor  opposite  the  landing,  and  sent  off  a  large 
boat  laden  with  boxes,  and  rowed  by  four  stout  seamen.  As 
they  reached  the  sands  Ishmael  blew  a  horn  to  warn  Reuben 
Gray  of  their  arrival. 

Three  or  four  times  the  boat  went  back  and  forth  between  the 
schooner  and  the  shore,  each  time  bringing  a  heavy  load.  By 
the  time  the  last  load  was  brought  and  deposited  upon  the 
beach,  Reuben  Gray  arrived  at  the  spot  with  his  team.  The 
sailors  received  a  small  gratuity  from  Gray  and  returned  to 
the  schooner,  which  immediately  raised  anchor  and  continued 
her  way  up  the  river. 

Ishmael,  Reuben,  and  Sam,  the  teamster,  loaded  the  wagon 


ISHMAEL    IN    TANGLEWOOD.  327 

with  the  boxes  and  set  out  for  Tanglewood,  Sam  driving  the 
team,  Ishmael  and  Reuben  walking  beside  it. 

Through  all  the  fertile  and  highly  cultivated  fields  that  lay 
along  the  banks  of  the  river  they  went,  until  they  reached  the 
borders  of  the  forest,  where  Reuben's  cottage  stood.  They  did 
not  pause  here,  but  passed  it  and  entered  the  forest.  What  a 
forest  it  was !  They  had  scarcely  entered  it  when  they  became 
so  buried  in  shade  that  they  might  have  imagined  themselves 
a  thousand  miles  deep  in  some  primeval  wilderness,  where  never 
the  foot  of  man  had  trod.  The  road  along  which  they  went  was 
grass-grown.  The  trees,  which  grew  to  an  enormous  size  and 
gigantic  height,  interwove  their  branches  thickly  overhead. 
Sometimes  these  branches  intermingled  so  low  that  they  grazed 
the  top  of  the  wagon  as  it  passed,  while  men  and  horses  had 
to  bow  their  heads. 

"  Why  isn't  this  road  cleared.  Uncle  Reuben  ? "  inquired 
Ishmael. 

"  Because  it  is  as  much  as  a  man's  place  is  worth  to  touch 
a  tree  in  this  forest,  Ishmael,"  replied  Reuben. 

"  But  why  is  that  ?  The  near  branches  of  these  i>rees  need 
lopping  away  from  the  roadside;  we  can  scarcely  get  along." 

"I  know  it,  Ishmael;  but  the  judge  won't  have  a  tree  in 
Tanglewood  so  much  as  touched;  it  is  his  crochet." 

"  True,  for  you,  Marse  Gray,"  spoke  up  Sam ;  "  last  time  I 
trimmed  away  the  branches  from  the  sides  of  this  here  road, 
ole  marse  threatened  if  I  cut  off  so  much  as  a  twig  from  one  of 
the  trees  again  he'd  take  off  a  joint  of  one  of  my  fingers  to 
see  how  I'd  like  to  be  *  trimmed,'  he  said." 

Ishmael  laughed  and  remarked : 

"  But  the  road  will  soon  be  closed  unless  the  trees  are  cut 
away." 

"  Sartin  it  will ;  but  he  don't  care  for  consequences ;  he  will 
have  his  way;  that's  the  reason  why  he  never  could  keep  any 
overseer  but  me;  there  was  always  such  a  row  about  the  trees 
and  things,  as  he  always  swore  they  should  grow  as  they  had 
a  mind  to,  in  spite  of  all  the  overseers  in  the  world.  I  let  him 
have  his  own  will;  it's  none  of  my  business  to  contradict  him," 
said  Reuben. 

"  But  what  will  you  do  when  the  road  closes,  how  will  you 
manage  to  get  heavy  boxes  up  to  the  house  ? "  laughed  Ishmael. 
Ishmael. 

"Wheel  'em  up  in  a  hand-barrow,  I  s'pose,  and  if  the  road 


328  ish:mael  ;  or,  dt  the  depths. 

gets  too  narrow  for  that,  unpack  'em  and  let  the  niggers  tote 
the  parcels  up  piece-meal." 

Thicker  and  thicker  grew  the  trees  as  they  penetrated  deeper 
into  the  forest;  more  obstructed  and  difficult  became  the  road. 
Suddenly,  without  an  instant's  warning,  they  came  upon  the 
house,  a  huge,  square  building  of  gray  stone,  so  overgrown  with 
moss,  ivy,  and  creeping  vines  that  scarcely  a  glimpse  of  the  wall 
could  be  seen.  Its  colors,  therefore,  blended  so  well  with  the 
forest  trees  that  grew  thickly  and  closely  around  it,  that  one 
could  scarcely  suspect  the  existence  of  a  building  there. 

"  Here  we  are,"  said  Keuben,  while  Sam  dismoiinted  and  be- 
gan to  take  oS  the  boxes. 

The  front  door  opened  and  a  fat  negro  woman,  apparently 
startled  by  the  arrival  of  the  wagon,  made  her  appearance, 
asking : 

"What  de  debbil  aU  dis,  chiUun?" 

"Here  are  some  books  that  are  to  be  put  into  the  library, 
Aunt  Katie,  and  this  young  man  is  to  unpack  and  arrange 
them,"  answered  the  overseer. 

"  llore  books :  my  hebbinly  Lord,  what  ole  marse  want  wid 
more  books,  when  he  nebber  here  to  read  dem  he  has  got  ? "  ex- 
claimed the  fat  woman,  raising  her  hands  in  dismay. 

"  That  is  none  of  our  business,  Katie !  What  we  are  to  do 
is  to  obey  orders;  so,  if  you  please,  let  us  have  the  keys,"  re- 
plied Gray. 

The  woman  disappeared  within  the  house  and  remained  ab- 
sent for  a  few  minutes,  during  which  the  men  lifted  the  boxes 
from  the  wagon. 

By  the  time  thej-  had  set  down  the  last  one  Katie  reappeared 
with  her  heavy  bunch  of  keys  and  beckoned  them  to  follow  her. 

Ishmael  obeyed,  by  shouldering  a  small  box  and  entering 
the  house,  while  Reuben  Gray  and  Sam  took  up  a  heavy  one  be- 
tween them  and  came  after. 

It  was  a  noble  old  hall,  with  its  walls  hung  with  family  pic- 
tures and  rusty  arms  and  trophies  of  the  chase;  with  doors 
opening  on  each  side  into  spacious  apartments;  and  with  a 
broad  staircase  ascending  from  the  center. 

The  fat  old  negro  housekeeper,  waddling  along  before  the 
men,  led  them  to  the  back  of  the  hall,  and  opened  a  door  on  the 
right,  admitting  them  into  the  library  of  Tanglewood. 

Here  the  men  set  down  the  boxes.  And  when  they  had 
brought  them  all  in,  and  Sam,  under  the  direction  of  Gray, 


THE    LIBKAET.  329 

had  forced  ofi  all  the  tops,  laying  the  contents  bare  to  view, 
the  latter  said: 

"  'Now  then,  Ishmael,  ^ve  will  leave  you  to  go  to  work  and 
\inpack;  but  don't  you  get  so  interested  in  the  work  as  to  dis- 
remember  dinner  time  at  one  o'clock  precisely ;  and  be  sure  you 
are  punctual;  because  we've  got  veal  and  spinnidge." 

"  Thank  you.  Uncle  Reuben,  I  will  not  keep  you  waiting," 
replied  the  youth. 

Gray  and  his  assistant  departed,  and  Ishmael  was  left  alone 
with  the  wealth  of  books  around  him. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

THE     LIBRARY. 

Eotind  the  room  are  shelves  of  dainty  lore, 

And  rich  old  pictures  hang  upon  the  ■walls, 

"Where  the  slant  light  falls  on  them;  and  wrought  gems, 

Medallions,  rare  mosaics  and  antiques 

From  Herculanenm,  the  niches  fill; 

And  on  a  table  of  enamel  wrought 

With  a  lost  art  in  Italy,  do  lie 

Prints  of  fair  women  and  engravings  rare. 

—^'^.  p.   Willis. 

It  was  a  noble  room ;  four  lofty  windows — two  on  each  side — 
admitting  abundance  of  light  and  air ;  at  one  end  was  a  marble 
chimney-piece,  over  which  hung  a  fine  picture  of  Christ  dis- 
puting with  the  doctors  in  the  temple;  on  each  side  of  this 
chimney-piece  were  glass  cases  filled  with  rare  shells,  minerals, 
and  other  curiosities;  all  the  remaining  spaces  along  the  walls 
and  between  the  windows  were  filled  up  with  book-cases ;  various 
writing  tables,  reading  stands,  and  easy-chairs  occupied  the 
center  of  the  floor. 

After  a  curious  glance  at  this  scene,  Ishmael  went  to  work 
at  unpacking  the  boxes.  He  found  his  task  much  easier  than 
he  had  expected  to  find  it.  Each  box  contained  one  particular 
set  of  books.  On  the  top  of  one  of  the  boxes  he  found  a  large 
strong  blank  folio,  entitled — "Library  Catalogue." 

Ishmael  took  this  book  and  sat  down  at  one  of  the  tables  and 
divided  it  into  twelve  portions,  writing  over  each  portion  the 
name  of  the  subject  to  which  he  proposed  to  devote  it,  as  "  The- 
ology," "  Physics,"  "  Jurisprudence,"  etc.  The  last  portion  he 
headed  "  AlisceUaneous."     Next  he  divided  the  empty  shelves 


830  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  TN   THE   DEPTHS. 

into  similar  compaxtments,  and  headed  each  with  the  corres- 
ponding names.  Then  he  began  to  make  a  list  of  the  books, 
taking  one  set  at  a  time,  writing  their  names  in  their  proper 
portion  of  the  catalogue  and  then  arranging  them  in  their 
proper  compartment  of  the  library. 

Ishmael  had  just  got  through  with  "  Theology,"  and  was 
about  to  begin  to  arrange  the  next  set  of  books  in  rotation, 
when  he  bethought  himself  to  look  at  the  timepiece,  and  seeing 
that  it  was  after  twelve,  he  hurried  back  to  Woodside  to  keep 
his  appointment  with  Reuben. 

But  he  returned  in  the  afternoon  and  recommenced  work; 
and  not  only  on  this  day,  but  for  several  succeeding  days, 
Ishmael  toiled  cheerfully  at  this  task.  To  arrange  all  these 
books  in  perfect  order  and  neatness  was  to  Ishmael  a  labol* 
of  real  love;  and  so  when  one  Saturday  afternoon  he  had 
completed  his  task,  it  was  with  a  feeling  half  of  satisfaction 
at  the  results  of  his  labor,  half  of  regret  at  leaving  the  scene 
of  it,  that  he  locked  up  the  library,  returned  the  key  to  Aunt 
Katie,  and  took  leave  of  Tanglewood. 

Walking  home  through  the  forest  that  evening  Ishmael 
thought  well  over  his  future  prospects.  He  had  read  and 
mastered  all  those  text-books  of  law  that  he  had  found  in 
the  old  escritoire  of  his  bedroom;  and  now  he  wanted  more 
advanced  books  on  the  same  subject.  Such  books  he  had 
seen  in  the  library  at  Tanglewood;  and  he  had  been  sorely 
tempted  to  linger  as  long  as  possible  there  for  the  sake  of 
reading  them:  but  honest  and  true  in  thought  and  act,  he 
resisted  the  temptation  to  appropriate  the  use  of  the  books,  or 
the  time  that  he  felt  was  not  his  own. 

On  this  evening,  therefore,  he  meditated  upon  the  means  of 
obtaining  the  books  that  he  wanted.  He  was  now  about  eigh- 
teen years  of  age,  highly  gifted  in  physical  beauty  and  in 
moral  and  intellectual  excellence;  but  he  was  still  as  poor  as 
poverty  could  make  him.  He  worked  hard,  much  harder  than 
many  who  earned  liberal  salaries;  but  he  earned  nothing,, 
absolutely  nothing,  beyond  his  board  and  clothing. 

This  state  of  things  he  felt  must  not  continue  longer.  It 
was  now  nearly  nine  months  since  he  had  left  Mr.  Middleton's 
school,  and  there  was  no  chance  of  his  ever  entering  another; 
so  now  he  felt  he  must  turn  the  education  he  had  received  to 
some  better  account  than  merely  keeping  Reuben  Gray's  farm 
books;  that  he  must  earn  something  to  support  himself  and  to 


THE    LIBEARY.  331 

enable  him  to  go  on  Tvith  his  law  studies ;  and  he  must  earn  this 
"  something "  in  this  neighborhood,  too ;  for  the  idea  of  leav- 
ing poor  Keuben  with  no  one  to  keep  his  accounts  never  entered 
the  unselfish  mind  of  Ishmael. 

Various  plans  of  action  as  to  how  he  should  contrive  to 
support  himself  and  pursue  his  studies  without  leaving  the 
neighborhood  suggested  themselves  to  Ishmael.  Among  the 
rest,  he  thought  of  opening  a  country  school.  True,  he  was 
very  young,  too  young  for  so  responsible  a  post;  but  in  every 
other  respect,  except  that  of  age,  he  was  admirably  well  quali- 
fied for  the  duty.  While  he  was  still  meditating  upon  this 
subject,  he  unexpectedly  reached  the  end  of  his  walk  and  the 
gate  of  the  cottage. 

Reuben  and  Hannah  were  standing  at  the  gate.  Reuben's 
left  arm  was  around  Hannah,  and  his  right  hand  held  an  open 
letter,  over  which  both  their  heads  were  bent.  Hannah  was 
helping  poor  Reuben  to  spell  out  its  contents. 

Ishmael  smiled  as  he  greeted  them,  smiled  with  his  eyes 
only,  as  if  his  sweet  bright  spirit  had  looked  out  in  love  upon 
them;  and  thus  it  was  that  Ishmael  always  met  his  friends. 

"  Glad  you've  come  home  so  soon,  Ishmael — glad  as  ever  I 
can  be !  Here's  another  rum  go,  as  ever  was ! "  said  Gray, 
looking  up  from  his  letter. 

"  What  is  it.  Uncle  Reuben  ?  " 

"  Why,  it's  a  sort  of  notice  from  the  judge.  'Pears  like  he's 
gin  up  his  v'y'ge  to  forrin  parts;  and  'stead  of  gwine  out 
yonder  for  two  or  three  years,  he  and  Miss  Merlin  be  coming 
down  here  to  spend  the  summer — ^leastways,  what's  left  of  it," 
said  Gray. 

Ishmael's  face  flushed  crimson,  and  then  went  deadly  white, 
as  he  reeled  and  learned  against  the  fence  for  support.  Much 
as  he  had  struggled  to  conquer  his  wild  passion  for  the  beauti- 
ful and  high-born  heiress,  often  as  he  had  characterized  it  as 
mere  boyish  folly,  or  moon-struck  madness,  closely  as  he  had 
applied  himself  to  study  in  the  hope  of  curing  his  mania,  he 
was  overwhelmed  by  the  sudden  announcement  of  her  expected 
return:  overwhelmed  by  a  shock  of  equally  blended  joy  and 
pain — joy  at  the  prospect  of  soon  meeting  her,  pain  at  the 
thought  of  the  impassable  gulf  that  yawned  them — "so  near 
and  yet  so  far !  " 

His  extreme  agitation  was  not  observed  by  either  Reuben 
or  Hannah,  whose  heads  were  again  bent  over  the  puzzling 


332      ishmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

letter.  Wliile  he  was  still  in  that  half-stunned,  half-excited 
and  wholly-confused  state  of  feeling,  Reuben  went  slowly  on 
with  his  explanations: 

"  'Pears  like  the  judge  have  got  another  gov'ment  'pointment, 
or  some  sich  thing,  as  will  keep  him  here  in  his  natyve  land; 
so  he  and  Miss  Claudia,  they  be  a-coming  down  here  to  stop 
till  the  meeting  of  Congress  in  Washington.  So  he  orders  me 
to  tell  Katie  to  get  the  house  ready  to  receive  them  by  the  first 
of  next  week;  and  law!  this  is  Saturday!  Leastways,  that  is 
all  me  and  Hannah  can  make  out'n  this  here  letter,  Ishmael; 
but  you  take  it  and  read  it  yourself,"  said  Gray,  putting  the 
missive  into  Ishmael's  hands. 

With  a  great  effort  to  recover  his  self-possession,  Ishmael 
took  the  letter  and  read  it  aloud. 

It  proved  to  be  just  what  Reuben  and  Hannah  had  made  of  it, 
but  Ishmael's  clear  reading  rendered  the  orders  much  plainer. 

"  Now,  if  old  Katie  won't  have  to  turn  her  fat  body  a  little 
faster  than  she  often  does,  I  don't  know  nothing ! "  exclaimed 
Gray,  when  Ishmael  had  finished  the  reading. 

"  I  will  go  up  myself  this  evening  and  help  her,"  said 
Hannah  kindly. 

"  No,  you  won't,  neither,  my  dear !  Old  Katie  has  lots  of 
young  maid  servants  to  help  her,  and  she's  as  jealous  as  a  pet 
cat  of  all  interference  with  her  affairs.  But  we  will  walk  over 
after  tea  and  let  her  know  what's  up,"  said  Gray. 

After  tea,  accordingly,  Reuben,  Hannah,  and  Ishmael  took 
a  pleasant  evening  stroll  through  the  forest  to  Tanglewood,  and 
told  Katie  what  was  at  hand. 

"  And  you'll  have  to  stir  round,  old  woman,  and  that  I  tell 
you,  for  this  is  Saturday  night,  and  they-  may  be  here  on  Mon- 
day evening,"  said  Gray. 

"  Law,  Marse  Reuben,  you  needn't  tell  me  nuffin  'tall  'bout 
Marse  Judge  Merlin!  I  knows  his  ways  too  well;  I  been  too 
long  use  to  his  popping  down  on  us,  unexpected,  like  the  Day 
of  Judgment,  for  me  to  be  unprepared!  The  house  is  all  in 
fust- rate  order;  only  wantin'  fires  to  be  kindled  to  correct  de 
damp,  and  windows  to  be  opened  to  air  de  rooms;  and  time 
'nuff  for  dat  o'  Monday,"  grinned  old  Katie,  taking  things  easy. 

"  Very  well,  only  see  to  it !  Come,  Hannah,  let  us  go  home," 
eaid  Gray. 

"  But,  Uncle  Reuben,  have  you  no  directions  for  the  coachman 
to  meet  the  judge  at  the  landing  ? "  inquired  IshmaeL 


THE   LIBRAE Y.  333 

"  No,  my  lad.  The  judge  never  comes  down  by  any  of  these 
little  sailing  packets  as  pass  here.  He  allers  comes  by  the 
steamboat  to  Baymouth,  and  then  from  there  to  here  by  land." 

"  Then  had  you  n«t  better  send  the  carriage  to  Baymouth 
immediately,  that  it  may  be  there  in  time  to  meet  him?  It 
will  be  more  comfortable  for  the  judge  and — and  Miss — and 
his  daughter  to  travel  in  their  own  easy  carriage  than  in  those 
rough  village  hacks." 

"  Well,  now,  Ishmael,  that's  a  rale  good  idee,  and  I'll  follow 
it,  and  the  judge  will  thank  you  for  it.  If  he'd  took  a  thought, 
you  see,  he'd  a-gin  me  the  order  to  do  just  that  thing.  But 
law!  he's  so  took  up  along  of  public  affairs,  as  he  never  thinks 
of  his  private  comfort,  though  he  is  always  pleased  as  possible 
when  anybody  thinks  of  it  for  him." 

"  Then,  Uncle  Reuben,  had  you  not  better  start  Sam  with 
the  carriage  this  evening?  It  is  a  very  clear  night,  the  roads 
are  excellent,  and  the  horses  are  fresh ;  so  he  could  easily  reach 
Baymouth  by  sunrise,  and  put  up  at  the  '  Planter's  Eest,'  for 
Sunday,  and  wait  there  for  the  boat." 

"  Yes,  Ishmael,  I  think  I  had  better  do  so ;  we'll  go  home 
now  directly  and  start  Sam.  He'll  be  pleased  to  death!  If 
there's  anything  that  nigger  likes,  it's  a  journey,  particular 
through  the  cool  of  the  night;  but  he'll  sleep  all  day  to-morrow 
to  make  up  for  his  lost  rest,"  returned  Reuben,  as  they  turned 
to  walk  back  to  the  cottage. 

Sam  was  found  loitering  near  the  front  gate.  When  told 
what  he  was  to  do,  he  grinned  and  started  with  alacrity  to  put 
the  horses  to  the  carriage  and  prepare  the  horse  feed  to  take 
along  with  him. 

And  meanwhile  Hannah  packed  a  hamper  full  of  food  and 
drink  to  solace  the  traveler  on  his  night  journey. 

In  half  an  hour  from  his  first  notice  to  go,  Sam  drove  the 
carriage  up  to  the  cottage  gate,  received  his  hamper  of  pro- 
visions and  his  final  orders,  and  departed. 

Hannah  and  Reuben,  leaning  over  the  gate,  watched  him  out 
of  sight,  and  then  sat  down  in  front  of  their  cottage  door,  to 
enjoy  the  coolness  of  the  summer  evening,  and  talk  of  the 
judge's  expected  arrival. 

Ishmael  went  up  to  his  room,  lighted  a  candle,  and  sat  down 
to  try  to  compose  his  agitated  heart  and  apply  his  mind  to 
study.  But  in  vain;  his  eyes  wandered  over  the  pages  of  his 
book;  his  mind  could  not  take  in  the  meaning.     The  thought 


33-i  ishmael;  oe,  en'  the  depths. 

of  Claudia  filled  his  whole  soul,  absorbed  his  every  faculty  to 
the  exclusion  of  every  other  idea. 

''  Oh,  this  will  never,  never  do !  It  is  weakness,  f oUy,  mad- 
ness !  What  have  I  to  do  with  Miss  Merlin  that  she  takes  pos- 
session of  my  whole  being  in  this  manner  I  I  must,  I  will  con- 
quer this  passion  I  "  he  exclaimed,  at  last,  starting  up,  throwing 
aside  his  book,  and  pacing  the  floor. 

"  Yes,  with  the  Lord's  help,  I  will  overcome  this  infatua- 
tion ! "  he  repeated,  as  he  paused  in  his  hasty  walk,  bowed  his 
head,  and  folded  his  hands  in  prayer  to  God  for  deliverance 
from  the  power  of  inordinate  and  vain  affections. 

This  done,  he  returned  to  his  studies  with  more  success.  And 
long  after  he  heard  Hannah  and  Reuben  re-enter  the  cottage 
and  retire  to  their  room,  he  continued  to  sit  up  and  read.  He 
read  on  perseveringly,  tmtil  he  had  wearied  himself  out  enough 
to  be  able  to  sleep.  And  his  last  resolution  on  seeking  his  bed 
was: 

"  By  the  Lord's  help  I  will  conquer  this  passion !  I  will  com- 
Het  it  with  prayer,  and  study,  and  work ! "' 


CHAPTER  XLL 

CLAUDIA. 

But  Bhe  in  those  fond  feelings  bad  no  share; 
Her  sighs  were  not  for  him:  to  her  he  was 
Even  as  a  brother:  bat  no  more:  'twas  much, 
Eor  brotherless  she  vras  save  in  the  name 
Her  girlish  friendship  had  bestowed  on  him; 
Herself  the  solitary  scion  left 
Of  a  time-honored  race. 

—Boron's  Dream, 

Ishmael  applied  himself  diligently  to  active  outdoor  work 
during  the  morning  and  to  study  during  the  evening  hours. 

Thus  several  days  passed.  Xothing  was  heard  from  Sam, 
the  carriage,  or  the  judge. 

Reuben  Gray  expressed  great  anxiety — ^not  upon  account  of 
the  judge,  or  Miss  Merlin,  who,  he  averred,  were  both  capable 
of  taking  care  of  themselves  and  each  other,  but  on  accotmt  o£ 
Sam  and  his  valuable  charge  that  he  feared  had  in  some  way  or 
other  come  to  hanm 

Ishmael  tried  to  reassure  him  by  declaring  his  own  opinion 
that  all  was  right,  and  that  Sam  was  only  waiting  at  Baymoutb 
for  the  arrival  of  his  master. 


CLAUDIA.  335 

Reuben  Gray  only  shook  his  head  and  predicted  all  sorts 
of  misfortunes. 

But  Ishmael's  supposition  was  proved  to  be  correct,  when 
late  Wednesday  night,  or  rather — for  it  was  after  midnight — 
early  Thursday  morning,  the  unusual  sound  of  carriage  wheels 
passing  the  road  before  the  cottag:^  waked  up  all  its  inmates, 
and  announced  to  them  the  arrival  of  the  judge  and  his 
daughter. 

Reuben  Gray  started  up  and  hurried  on  his  clothes. 

Ishmael  sprang  out  of  bed  and  looked  forth  from  the  window. 
But  the  carriage  without  pausing  for  a  moment  rolled  on  its 
way  to  Tanglewood  House. 

The  startled  sleepers  finding  their  services  not  required  re- 
turned to  bed  again. 

Early  that  morning,  while  the  family  were  at  the  breakfast 
table,  Sam  made  his  appearance  and  formar.7  announced  the 
arrival  of  the  judge  and  Miss  llerlin  at  Tanglewood. 

"How  long  did  you  have  to  wait  for  them  at  Eaymouth?" 
inquired  Reuben  Gray. 

"  Xot  a  hour,  sar.  I  arrove  about  sunrise  at  the  '  Planter's,' 
just  the  '  Powhatan '  was  a  steaming  up  to  the  wharf ;  and  so 
I  druv  on  to  the  wharf  to  see  if  de  judge  and  his  darter  was 
aboard,  and  sure  nufP  dere  dey  was!  And  mightily  'stonished 
was  dey  to  see  me  and  de  carriage  and  de  horses ;  and  mightily 
pleased,  too.  So  de  judge  he  put  his  darter  inter  de  inside, 
while  I  piled  on  de  luggage  a-hind  and  a-top;  and  so  we  goes 
back  to  de  '  Planters,' "  said  Sam. 

"  But  what  kept  you  so  long  at  Baymouth? " 

"Why,  law -bless  you,  de  judge,  he  had  wisits  to  pay  in  da 
neighborhood;  and  having  of  me  an'  de  carriage  dere  made  it 
all  de  more  convenienter.  O'  Monday  we  went  over  to  a  place 
called  de  Burrow,  and  dined  long  of  one  Marse  Commodore 
Burghe ;  and  o'  Tuesday  we  went  and  dined  at  Brudenell  Hall 
with  young  Mr.  Herman  Brudenell." 

At  this  name  Hannah  started  and  turned  pale;  but  almost 
immediately  recovered  her  composure. 

Sam  continued: 

"And  0'  Wednesday,  that  is  yesterday  morning  airly,  we 
started  for  home.  We  laid  by  during  the  heat  of  the  day  at 
Horse-head,  and  started  again  late  in  de  artemoon;  dat  made 
it  one  o'clock  when  we  arrove  at  home  last  night,  or  leastways 
this  morning." 


336  ISHMAEL  ;  "  OE,  IW   THE   DEPTHS. 

"Well,  and  what  brought  you  down  here?  Has  the  judge 
sent  any  messages  to  me  ? " 

"  Yes,  he  have ,  he  want  you  to  come  right  up  to  de  house  and 
fetch  de  farm  books,  so  he  can  see  how  the  'counts  stands." 

"  Very  well ;  they're  all  right ! "  said  Reuben  confidently,  as 
he  arose  from  the  table,  put  on  his  hat,  took  two  account-books 
from  the  shelf,  and  went  out  followed  by  Sam. 

Ishmael  as  usual  went  into  the  garden  to  work,  and  tried  to 
keep  his  thoughts  from  dwelling  upon  Claudia. 

At  dinner-time  Gray  returned,  and  Ishmael  met  him  at  the 
table.  And  Gray  could  talk  of  nothing  but  the  improvement, 
beauty,  and  the  grace  of  Miss  Merlin. 

"  She  is  just  too  beautiful  for  thi-s  world,  Hannah,"  he  con- 
cluded, after  having  exhausted  all  his  powers  of  description 
upon  his  subject. 

After  dinner  Ishmael  went  upstairs  to  his  books,  and  Han- 
nah took  advantage  of  his  absence  to  say  to  Gray : 

"  Reuben,  I  wish  you  would  never  mention  Miss  Claudia 
Merlin's  name  before  Ishmael." 

"  Law !  why  ?  "  inquired  Gray. 

"  Because  I  want  him  to  forget  her." 

"  But  why  so  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Reuben,  how  dull  you  are !  "Well,  if  I  must  tell  you, 
he  likes  her." 

"  Well,  so  do  I !  and  so  do  everyone !  "  said  honest  Reuben. 

"  But  he  likes  her  too  well !  he  loves  her,  Reuben !  " 

"What!  Ishmael  love  Judge  Merlin's  daughter!  L-a-wl 
Why  I  should  as  soon  think  of  falling  in  love  with  a  royal  prin- 
cess !  "  exclaimed  the  honest  man,  in  extreme  astonishment. 

"  Reuben,  hush !  I  hate  to  speak  of  it ;  but  it  is  true.  Pray, 
never  let  him  know  that  we  even  suspect  the  truth;  and  be 
careful  not  to  mention  her  name  in  his  presence.  I  can  see 
that  he  is  struggling  to  conquer  his  feelings;  but  he  can  never 
do  it  while  you  continue  to  ding  her  name  into  his  ears  for- 
everlasting." 

"  I'll  be  mum !  Ishmael  in  love  with  Miss  Merlin !  I  should 
as  soon  suspicion  him  of  being  in  love  with  the  Queen  of 
Spain!     Good  gracious!  how  angry  she'd  be  if  she  knew  it." 

After  this  conversation  Reuben  Gray  was  very  careful  to 
avoid  all  mention  of  Claudia  Merlin  in  the  hearing  of  Ishmael. 

The  month  of  August  was  drawing  to  a  close.  Ishmael  had 
not  once  set  eyes  on  Claudia,  though  he  had  chanced  to  see  the 


CLAUDIA.  337 

judge  on  horseback  at  a  distance  several  times.  Iskmael  busied 
himself  in  seeking  out  a  room  in  the  neighborhood,  in  which 
to  open  a  school  on  the  first  of  September.  He  had  not  as  yet 
succeeded  in  his  object,  when  one  day  an  accident  occurred 
that,  as  he  used  it,  had  a  signal  effect  on  his  future  life. 

It  was  a  rather  cool  morning  in  the  latter  part  of  August 
when  he,  after  spending  an  hour  or  two  of  work  in  the  garden, 
dressed  himself  in  his  best  clothes  and  set  off  to  walk  to  Eushy 
Shore  farm,  where  he  heard  there  was  a  small  schoolhouse 
ready  furnished  with  rough  benches  and  desks,  to  be  had  at 
low  rent.  His  road  lay  along  the  high  banks  of  the  river,  above 
the  sands.  He  had  gone  about  a  mile  on  his  way  when  he  heard 
the  sound  of  carriage  wheels  behind  him,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
caught  a  glimpse  of  an  open  barouche,  drawn  by  a  pair  of  fine, 
spirited  gray  horses,  as  it  flashed  by  him.  Quickly  as  the  car- 
riage passed,  he  recognized  in  the  distinguished  looking  young 
lady  seated  within  it — Claudia ! — recognized  her  with  an 
electric  shock  that  thrilled  his  whole  being,  paralyzed  him  where 
he  stood  and  bound  him  to  the  spot!  He  gazed  after  the  flying 
vehicle  until  it  vanished  from  his  sight.  Then  he  sank  down 
where  he  stood  and  covered  his  face  with  his  hands  and  strove 
to  calm  the  rising  emotion  that  swelled  his  bosom.  It  was  min- 
utes before  he  recovered  self-possession  enough  to  arise  and 
go  on  his  way. 

In  due  time  he  reached  the  farm — Rushy  Shore — where  the 
schoolhouse  was  for  rent.  It  was  a  plain  little  log  house  close 
to  the  river  side  and  shaded  by  cedars.  It  had  been  built  for 
the  use  of  a  poor  country  master  who  had  worn  out  his  life  in 
teaching  for  small  pay  the  humbler  class  of  country  children. 
He  rested  from  his  earthly  labors,  and  the  school  was  without 
a  teacher.  Ishmael  saw  only  the  overseer  of  the  farm,  who  in- 
formed him  that  he  had  authority  to  let  the  schoolroom  only 
until  Christmas,  as  the  whole  estate  had  just  been  sold  and  the 
new  owner  was  to  take  possession  at  the  new  year. 

"  Who  is  the  new  owner  ? "  inquired  Ishmael. 

"  Well,  sir,  his  name  is  Middleton — Mr.  James  Middleton, 
from  St.  Mary's  County:  though  I  think  I  did  hear  as  he  was 
first  of  all  from  Virginia." 

"  Mr.  Middleton !  Mr.  James  Middleton !  "  exclaimed  Ish- 
mael, catching  his  breath  for  joy. 

"Yes,  sir;  that  is  the  gentleman;  did  you  happen  to  know 
him?" 


338  ISHMAEL ;  OK,  nf  the  depths. 

"  Yes :  intimately ;  he  is  one  of  the  best  and.  most  honored . 
friends  I  have  in  the  world ! "  said  Ishmael  warmly. 

"  Then,  sir,  maybe  he  wouldn't  be  for  turning  you  out  of  the 
schoolhouse  even  when  the  time  we  can  let  it  for  is  up  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't  think  he  would,"  said  Ishmael,  smiling,  as  he 
took  his  leave  and  started  on  his  return.  He  walked  rapidly 
on  his  way  homeward,  thinking  of  the  strange  destiny  that 
threw  him  again  among  the  friends  of  his  childhood,  when  he 
was  startled  by  a  sound  as  of  the  sudden  rush  of  wheels.  He 
.raised  his  head  and  beheld  a  fearful  sight!  Plunging  madly 
towards  the  brink  of  the  high  bank  were  the  horses  of  Claudi9,'8 
returning  carriage.  The  coachman  had  dropped  the  reins,  whicli 
■were  trailing  on  the  ground,  sprung  from  his  seat  and  was  left 
some  distance  behind.  Claudia  retained  hers,  holding  by  the 
sides  of  the  carriage;  but  her  face  was  white  as  marble;  her 
eyes  were  starting  from  their  sockets;  her  teeth  were  firmly  set; 
her  lips  drawn  back;  her  hat  lost  and  her  black  hair  streaming 
behind  her !  On  rushed  the  maddened  beasts  towards  the  brink 
of  the  precipice !  another  moment,  and  they  would  have  dashed 
down  into  certain  destruction! 

Ishmael  saw  and  hurled  himself  furiously  forward  between 
the  rushing  horses  and  the  edge  of  the  precipice,  seizing  th© 
reins  as  the  horses  dashed  up  to  him,  and  threw  all  his  strength 
into  the  effort  to  turn  them  aside  from  their  fate. 

He  did  turn  them  from  the  brink  of  destruction,  but  alasf 
alas!  as  they  were  suddenly  and  violently  whirled  around  they 
threw  him  down  and  passed,  dragging  the  carriage  with  them, 
over  his  prostrate  body ! 

At  the  same  moment  some  fishermen  on  the  sands  below,  who 
had  seen  the  impending  catastrophe,  rushed  up  the  bank,  headed 
the  maddened  horses  and  succeeded  in  stopping  them. 

Then  Miss  Merlin  jumped  from  the  carriage,  and  ran  to  the 
side  of  Ishmael. 

In  that  instant  of  deadly  peril  she  had  recognized  him;  but 
all  had  passed  so  instantaneously  that  she  had  not  had  time  to 
speak,  scarcely  to  breathe. 

Now  she  kneeled  by  his  side  and  raised  his  head.  He  was 
mangled,  bleeding,  pallid,  and  insensible. 

"  Oh,  for  the  love  of  God,  leave  those  horses  and  come  here, 
men !  Come  instantly !  "  cried  Claudia,  who  with  trembling 
hands  was  seeking  on  the  boy's  face  and  bosom  for  some  signs 
of  life. 


CLAUDIA.  339 

Two  of  ih.e  men  remained  with  the  horses,  but  three  rushed 
to  the  side  of  the  young  lady. 

"  Oh,  Heaven !  he  is  crushed  to  death,  I  fear !  He  was  tram- 
pled down  by  the  horses,  and  the  whole  carriage  seemed  to  have 
passed  over  him  !  Oh,  tell  me !  tell  me !  is  he  killed  ?  is  he  quite, 
quite  dead  ? "  cried  Claudia  breathlessly,  wringing  her  hands 
in  anguish,  as  she  arose  from  her  kneeling  posture  to  make 
room  for  the  man. 

The  three  got  down  beside  him  and  began  to  examine  his 
condition. 

"  Is  he  dead  ?    Oh !  is  he  dead  ?  "  cried  Claudia. 

"  It's  impossible  to  tell,  miss,"  answered  one  of  the  men,  who 
had  his  hand  on  Ishmael's  wrist ;  "  but  he  haint  got  no  pulse." 

"  And  his  leg  is  broken,  to  begin  with,"  said  another,  who  was 
busy  feeling  the  poor  fellow's  limbs. 

"  And  I  think  his  ribs  be  broken,  too,"  added  the  third  man, 
■who  had  his  hand  in  the  boy's  bosom. 

With  a  piercing  scream  Claudia  threw  herself  down  on  the 
ground,  bent  over  the  fallen  body,  raised  the  poor,  ghastly  head 
in  her  arms,  supported  it  on  her  bosom,  snatched  a  vial  of  aro- 
matic vinegar  from  her  pocket,  and  began  hastily  to  bathe  the 
blanched  face;  her  tears  falling  fast  as  she  cried: 

"  He  must  not  die !  Oh,  he  shall  not  die !  Oh,  God  have 
mercy  on  me,  and  spare  his  life !  Oh,  Saviour  of  the  world, 
save  him !  Sweet  angels  in  heaven,  come  to  his  aid !  Oh,  Ish- 
mael,  my  brother !  my  treasure !  my  own,  dear  boy,  do  not  die  I 
Better  I  had  died  than  you !  Come  back !  come  back  to  me,  my 
own !  my  beautiful  boy,  come  back  to  me !     You  are  mine !  " 

Her  tears  fell  like  rain;  and  utterly  careless  of  the  eyes  gaz- 
ing in  wonder  upon  her,  she  covered  his  cold,  white  face  with 
kisses. 

Those  warm  tears,  those  thrilling  kisses,  falling  on  his  life- 
less face,  might  have  called  back  the  boy's  spirit,  had  it  been 
"waiting  at  the  gates  of  heaven ! 

To  Claudia's  unutterable  joy  his  sensitive  features  quJi'ered, 
his  pale  cheeks  flushed,  his  large,  blue  eyes  opened,  and  w?th  a 
smile  of  ineffable  satisfaction  he  recognized  the  face  that  was 
bending  over  him.  Then  the  pallid  lins  trembled  and  unclosed 
•with  the  faintly  uttered  inquiry: 

"  You  are  safe,  Miss  Merlin  ?  " 

"  Quite  safe,  my  own  dear  boy !  but  oh !  at  wl*at  a  cost  to 
you ! "  she  answered  impulsively  and  fervently- 


340  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

He  closed  his  eyes,  and  while  that  look  of  ineffable  bliss 
deepened  on  his  face,  he  murmured  some  faint  words  that  she 
stooped  to  catch : 

"  I  am  so  happy — so  happy — I  could  wish  to  die  now !  "  he 
breathed. 

"  But  you  shall  not  die,  dear  Ishmael !  God  heard  my  cry 
and  sent  you  back  to  me !     You  shall  live !  " 

Then  turning  to  the  gaping  men,  she  said: 

"Raise  him  gently,  and  lay  him  in  the  barouche.  Stop  a 
moment ! — I  will  get  in  first  and  arrange  the  cushions  for  him." 

And  with  that  she  tenderly  laid  the  boy's  head  back  upon  the 
ground,  and  entered  the  carriage,  and  with  her  own  hands  took 
all  the  cushions  from  the  tops  of  the  seats,  and  arranged  them 
so  as  to  make  a  level  bed  for  the  hurt  boy.  Then  she  placed 
herself  in  the  back  seat,  and,  as  they  lifted  him  into  the  car- 
riage, she  took  his  head  and  shoulders  and  supported  them 
"upon  her  lap. 

But  Ishmael  had  fainted  from  the  pain  of  being  moved.  And 
oh!  what  a  mangled  form  he  seemed,  as  she  held  him  in  her 
arms  upon  her  bosom,  while  his  broken  limbs  laj?  out  upon  the 
pile  of  cushions. 

"  One  of  you  two  now  take  the  horses  by  the  head,  and  lead 
them  slowly,  by  the  river  road,  towards  Tanglewood  House. 
It  is  the  longest  road,  but  the  smoothest,"  said  Miss  Merlin. 

Two  of  the  men  started  to  obey  this  order,  saying  that  it 
might  take  more  than  one  to  manage  the  horses  if  they  should 
grow  restive  again. 

"That  is  very  true;  besides,  you  can  relieve  each  other  in 
leading  the  horses.  And  now  one  of  the  others  must  run  di- 
rectly to  the  house  of  the  Overseer  Gray,  and  tell  him  what  has 
happened,  and  direct  him  to  ride  off  immediately  to  Shelton 
and  fetch  Dr.  Jarvis  to  Tanglewood." 

All  three  of  the  remaining  men  started  off  zealously  upon  this 
errand.  Meanwhile  Sam,  the  craven  coachman,  came  up  with 
a  crestfallen  air  to  the  side  of  the  carriage,  whimpering: 

"  Miss  Claudia,  I  hope  nobody  was  dangerous  hurt  ?  " 

"  ISTobody  dangerously  hurt  ?  Ishmael  Worth  is  killed  for 
aught  I  know !  Keep  out  of  my  way,  you  cowardly  villain ! " 
exclaimed  Claudia  angrily,  for  you  know  the  heiress  was  no 
angel. 

"  'Deed  and  'deed,  Miss  Claudia,  I  didn't  know  what  I  was 
a-doing  of  no  more  than  the  dead  when  I  jumped  out'n  the 


CLAUDIA.  341 

b'rouche !  'Clare  to  my  Marster  in  heben  I  didn't ! "  whined 
Sam. 

''  Perhaps  not ;  but  keep  out  of  my  way !  "  repeated  Claudia, 
with  her  eyes  kindling. 

"  But  please,  miss,  mayn't  I  drive  you  home  now  ? " 

"  What  ?  after  nearly  breaking  my  neck,  which  was  saved 
only  at  the  cost  of  this  poor  boy's  life,  perhaps  ? " 

"Please,  Miss  Claudia,  I'll  be  careful  another  time " 

"  Careful  of  your  own  life  !  " 

*'  Please,  miss,  let  me  drive  you  home  this  once." 

"  Not  to  save  your  soul !  " 

"But  what'll  ole  Marse  say?"  cried  Sam,  in  utter  dismay. 

"  That  is  your  affair.  I  advise  you  to  keep  out  of  his  way 
also !  Begone  from  my  sight !  Go  on,  men !  "  finally  ordered 
Miss  Merlin. 

Sam,  more  ashamed  of  himself  than  ever,  slunk  away. 

And  the  fishermen  started  to  lead  the  horses  and  carriage 
towards  Tanglewood. 

Meanwhile  the  messengers  dispatched  by  Claudia  hurried  on 
towards  Reuben  Gray's  cottage.  But  before  they  got  in  sight 
of  the  house  they  came  full  upon  Reuben,  who  was  mounted  on 
his  white  cob,  and  riding  as  if  for  a  wager. 

"  Hey !  hallo !  stop !  "  cried  the  foremost  man,  throwing  up 
his  arms  before  the  horse,  which  immediately  started  and  shied. 

"  Hush,  can't  ye !  Don't  stop  me  now !  I'm  in  a  desp'at 
Jiurry !  I'm  off  for  the  doctor !  My  wife's  taken  bad,  and  may 
die  before  I  get  back !  "  exclaimed  Reuben,  with  a  scared  visage, 
as  he  tried  to  pass  the  messengers. 

"  Going  for  the  doctor !  There's  just  where  we  were  going 
to  send  you !  Go  as  fast  as  you  can,  and  if  your  wife  isn't  very 
bad  indeed,  send  him  first  of  all  to  Tanglewood,  where  he  is 
wanted  immediately." 

"  Who  is  ill  there  ? "  inquired  Reuben  anxiously. 

"  Nobody !  but  your  nephew  has  been  knocked  down  and 
trampled  nearly  to  death  while  stopping  Miss  Merlin's  horses 
that  were  mnning  away  with  her." 

"  Ishmael  hurt !  Good  gracious !  there's  nothing  but  trouble 
in  this  world  !     Where  is  the  poor  lad  ?  " 

"Miss  Merlin  has  taken  him  to  Tanglewood.  The  doctor  is 
wanted  there." 

"  I'll  send  him  as  soon  as  ever  I  can ;  but  I  must  get  him  to 
Hannah  first !  I  must  indeed ! "     And  with  that  Reuben  put 


342      ishmael;  oe,  in  the  depths. 

whip  to  his  horse  and  rode  away;  but  in  a  moment  he  wheeled 
again  and  rode  back  to  the  fishermen,  saying: 

"  Hallo,  Sim,pson !  are  you  going  past  our  place  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  man. 

"  Well,  then,  mind  and  don't  breathe  a  word  about  Ishmael's 
accident  to  Hannah,  or  to  anybody  about  the  place  as  might 
tell  her ;  because  she's  very  ill,  and  the  shock  might  be  her  death, 
you  know,"  said  Reuben  anxiously. 

"  All  right !  we'll  be  careful,"  replied  the  man.  And  Reuben 
rode  off. 

He  was  so  fortunate  as  to  find  Dr.  Jarvis  at  his  office  and  get 
him  to  come  immediately  to  Woodside.  But  not  until  the  doc- 
tor had  seen  Hannah  and  had  given  her  a  little  medicine,  and 
declared  that  his  farther  services  would  not  be  required  by 
her  for  several  hours  yet,  did  Reuben  mention  to  him  the  other 
case  that  awaited  his  attention  at  Tanglewood.  And  Dr.  Jar- 
vis,  with  a  movement  of  impatience  at  the  unnecessary  delay, 
hurried  thither. 

CHAPTER  ZLH. 

ISHMAEL  AT  TANGLEWOOD. 

There  was  an  ancient  mansion,  and  before 
Ita  walls  there  was  a  steed  caparisoned. 
Within  an  antique  oratory  lay 
The  boy  of  whom  I  spake ;  he  was  alone, 
And  pale  and  tossing  to  and  fro.    .    . 

— Byron. 

Meanwhile  the  carriage  traveling  slowly  reached  Tanglewood. 
Slowly  pacing  up  and  down  the  long  piazza  in  front  of  the 
house  was  Judge  Merlin.  He  was  a  rather  singular-looking 
man  of  about  forty-five  years  of  age.  He  was  very  tall,  thin, 
and  bony,  with  high  aquiline  features,  dark  complexion,  and 
iron-gray  hair,  which  he  wore  long  and  parted  in  the  middle. 
He  was  habited  in  a  loose  jacket,  vest,  and  trousers  of  brown 
linen,  and  wore  a  broad-brimmed  straw  hat  on  his  head,  and 
large  slippers,  down  at  the  heel,  on  his  feet.  He  carried  in  his 
hand  a  lighted  pipe  of  common  clay,  and  he  walked  with  a  slow, 
swinging  gait,  and  an  air  of  careless  indifference  to  all  around 
him.  Altogether,  he  presented  the  idea  of  a  civilized  Indian 
chief,  rather  than  that  of  a  Christian  gentleman.  Tradition 
said  that  the  blood  of  King  Powhatan  flowed  in  Randolph 


ISHMAEL    AT   TANGLEWOOD.  343 

Merlin's  veins,  and  certainly  his  personal  appearance,  character, 
tastes,  habits,  and  manners  favored  the  legend. 

On  seeing  the  carriage  approach  he  had  taken  the  clay  pipe 
from  his  mouth  and  sauntered  forward.  On  seeing  the  strange 
burden  that  his  daughter  supported  in  her  arms,  he  came  down 
to  the  side  of  the  carriage,  exclaiming: 

"  Who  have  you  got  there,  Claudia  ?  " 

"  Oh,  papa,  it  is  Ishmael  Worth !  He  has  killed  himself,  I 
fear,  in  saving  me!  My  horses  ran  away,  ran  directly  towards 
the  steeps  above  the  river,  and  would  have  plunged  over  if  he 
had  not  started  forward  and  turned  their  heads  in  time;  but 
the  horses,  as  they  turned,  knocked  him  down  and  ran  over 
him ! "  cried  Claudia,  in  almost  breathless  vehemence. 

"  What  was  Sam  doing  all  this  time  ? "  inquired  the  judge, 
as  he  stood  contemplating  the  insensible  boy. 

"  Oh,  papa,  he  sprang  from  the  carriage  as  soon  as  the  horses 
became  unmanageable  and  ran  away!  But  don't  stop  here 
asking  useless  questions!  Lift  him  out  and  take  him  into  the 
house!  Gently,  papa!  gently,"  said  Claudia,  as  Judge  Merlin 
slipped  his  long  arms  under  the  youth's  body  and  lifted  him 
from  the  carriage. 

"  Now,  then,  what  do  you  expect  me  to  do  with  him  ?  "  in- 
quired Judge  Merlin,  looking  around  as  if  for  a  convenient 
place  to  lay  him  on  the  grass. 

"  Oh,  papa,  take  him  right  into  the  spare  bedroom  on  the 
lower  floor!  and  lay  him  on  the  bed.  I  have  sent  for  a  doctor 
to  attend  him  here,"  answered  Claudia,  as  she  sprang  from  the 
carriage  and  led  the  way  into  the  very  room  she  had  indicated. 

"  He  is  rather  badly  hurt,"  said  the  judge,  as  he  laid  Ishmael 
Tipon  the  bed  and  arranged  his  broken  limbs  as  easily  as  he 
could. 

"  '  Rather  badly ! '  he  is  crushed  nearly  to  death !  I  told  you 
the  whole  carriage  passed  over  him !  "  cried  Claudia,  with  a  hys- 
terical sob,  as  she  bent  over  the  boy. 

"Worse  than  I  thought,"  continued  the  judge,  as  he  pro- 
ceeded to  unbutton  Ishmael's  coat  and  loosen  his  clothes. 
**Did  you  say  you  sent  for  a  doctor?  " 

"Yes!  as  soon  as  it  happened!  He  ought  to  be  here  in  an 
hour  from  this ! "  replied  Claudia,  wringing  her  hands. 

"  His  clothes  must  be  cut  away  from  him ;  it  might  do  his 
fractured  limbs  irreparable  injury  to  try  to  draw  off  his  coat 
and  trousers  in  the  usual  manner.    Leave  him  to  me,  Claudia, 


344  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  LN"   THE   DEPTHS. 

and  go  and  tell  old  Katie  to  come  here  and  bring  a  pair  of 
sliarp  shears  with  her,"  ordered  the  judge. 

Claudia  stooped  down  quickly,  gave  one  wistful,  longing, 
compassionate  gaze  at  the  still,  cold  white  face  of  the  sufferer, 
and  then  hurried  out  to  obey  her  father's  directions.  She  sent 
old  Katie  in,  and  then  threw  off  her  hat  and  mantle  and  sat 
down  on  the  step  of  the  door  to  watch  for  the  doctor's  approach, 
and  also  to  be  at  hand  to  hear  any  tidings  that  might  come 
from  the  room  of  the  wounded  boy. 

More  than  an  hour  Claudia  remained  on  the  watch  without 
seeing  anyone.  Then,  when  suspense  grew  intolerable,  she  im- 
pulsively sprang  up  and  silently  hastened  to  the  door  of  the 
sick-room  and  softly  rapped. 

The  judge  came  and  opened  it. 

"  Oh,  papa,  how  is  he  ? " 

"  Breathing,  Claudia,  that  is  all !  I  wish  to  Heaven  the  doctor 
would  come !     Are  you  sure  the  messenger  went  after  him ! " 

"  Oh,  yes,  papa,  I  am  sure !    Do  let  me  come  in  and  see  him !  " 

"  It  is  no  place  for  you,  Claudia ;  he  is  partially  undressed ;  I 
will  take  care  of  him." 

And  with  these  words  the  judge  gently  closed  the  door  in  his 
daughter's  face. 

Claudia  went  back  to  her  post. 

"  Why  don't  the  doctor  come !  And  oh !  why  don't  Reuben 
Gray  or  Hannah  come?  It  is  dreadful  to  sit  here  and  wait!" 
she  exclaimed,  as  with  a  sudden  resolution  she  sprang  up  again, 
seized  her  hat  and  ran  out  of  the  house  with  the  intention  of 
proceeding  directly  to  the  Gray's  cottage. 

But  a  few  paces  from  the  house  she  met  the  doctor's  gig. 

"  Oh,  Doctor  Jarvis,  I  am  so  glad  you  have  come  at  last ! " 
she  cried. 

"  Who  is  it  that  is  hurt  ? "  inquired  the  doctor. 

"  Ishmael  Worth,   our  overseer's  nephew ! " 

"  How  did  it  happen  ?  " 

"Didn't  they  tell  you?" 

"  Xo." 

"  Oh,  poor  boy !  He  threw  himself  before  my  horses  to  stop 
them  as  they  were  running  down  the  steeps  over  the  river;  and 
he  turned  them  aside,  but  they  knocked  him  dovsm  and  ran 
over  him !  " 

"  Bad !  very  bad !  poor  fellow !  "  said  the  doctor,  jumping  from 
his  gig  as  he  drew  up  before  the  house. 


ISHMAEL    AT    TANGLEWOOD.  345 

Claudia  ran  in  before  him,  leading  the  way  to  the  sick  cham- 
ber, at  the  door  of  which  she  rapped  to  announce  the  arrival. 
This  time  old  Katie  opened  the  door,  and  admitted  the  doctor. 

Claudia,  excluded  from  entrance,  walked  up  and  down  the 
hall  in  a  fever  of  anxiety. 

Once  old  Katie  came  out  and  Claudia  arrested  her. 

"  What  does  the  doctor  say,  Katie  ? '' 

"He  don't  say  nothing  satisfactory,  Miss  Claudia.  Don't 
stop  me,  please !     I'm  sent  for  bandages  and  things !  " 

And  Katie  hurried  on  her  errand,  and  presently  reappeared 
with  her  arms  full  of  linen  and  other  articles,  which  she  car- 
ried into  the  sick-room.  Later,  the  doctor  came  out  attended  by 
the  judge. 

Claudia  waylaid  them  with  the  questions : 

"What  is  the  nature  of  his  injuries?  are  they  fatal?" 

"  Not  fatal ;  but  very  serious.  One  leg  and  arm  are  broken ; 
and  he  is  very  badly  bruised ;  but  worst  of  all  is  the  great  shock 
to  his  very  sensitive  nervous  system,"  was  the  reply  of  Doctor 
Jarvis. 

"  When  will  you  see  him  again,  sir  ? "  anxiously  inquired 
Claudia. 

"  In  the  course  of  the  evening.  I  am  not  going  back  home 
for  some  hours,  perhaps  not  for  the  night;  I  have  a  case  at 
Gray's." 

"  Indeed !  that  is  the  reason,  then,  I  suppose,  why  no  one  has 
answered  my  message  to  come  up  and  see  Ishmael.  But  who 
is  sick  there  ? "  inquired  Claudia. 

"Mrs.  Gray.  Good-afternoon,  Miss  Merlin,"  said  the  doctor 
shortly,  as  he  walked  out  of  the  house  attended  by  the  judge. 

Claudia  went  to  the  door  of  Ishmael's  room  and  rapped  softly. 

Old  Katie  answered  the  summons. 

"  Can  I  come  in  now,  Katie  ? "  asked  Miss  Merlin,  a  little 
impatiently. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  s'pose  so ;  I  s'pose  you'd  die  if  you  didn't !  "  an- 
swered this  privileged  old  servant,  holding  open  the  door  for 
Claudia's  admittance. 

She  passed  softly  into  the  darkened  room,  and  approached 
the  bedside.  Ishmael  lay  there  swathed  in  linen  bandages  and 
extended  at  full  length,  more  like  a  shrouded  corpse  than  a  liv- 
ing boy.    His  eyes  were  closed  and  his  face  was  livid. 

"  Is  he  asleep  ? "  inquired  Claudia,  in  a  tone  scarcely  above 
her  breath. 


S46  ishmael;  oe,  in  the  depths. 

"  Sort  o'  sleep.  You  see,  arter  de  doctor  done  set  his  arm 
an'  leg,  an'  splintered  of  'em  up,  an'  bovm.'  up  his  wounds  an' 
bruises,  he  gib  him  some'at  to  'pose  his  nerves  and  make  him 
sleep,  an'  it  done  hev  him  into  dis  state;  which  you  see  your- 
se'f  is  nyder  sleep  nor  wake  nor  dead  nor  libe." 

Claudia  saw  indeed  that  he  was  under  the  eflfects  of  morphia. 
'And  with  a  deep  sigh  of  strangely  blended  relief  and  appre- 
hension, Claudia  sank  into  a  chair  beside  his  bed. 

And  old  Katie  took  that  opportunity  to  slip  out  and  eat  her 
"  bit  of  dinner,"  leaving  Claudia  watching. 

At  the  expiration  of  an  hour  Katie  returned  to  her  post. 
But  Claudia  did  not  therefore  quit  hers.  She  remained  seated 
beside  the  wounded  boy.  All  that  day  he  lay  quietly,  under 
the  influence  of  morphia.  Once  the  judge  looked  in  to  inquire 
the  state  of  the  patient,  and  on  being  told  that  the  boy  still 
slept,  he  went  off  again.  Late  in  the  afternoon  the  doctor  came 
again,  saw  that  his  patient  was  at  ease,  left  directions  for  his 
treatment,  and  then  prepared  to  depart. 

"  How  is  the  sick  woman  at  Gray's  ? "  inquired  Claudia. 

"  Extremely  ill.  I  am  going  immediately  back  there  to  re- 
main until  it  is  over;  if  I  should  be  particularly  wanted  here^ 
send  there  for  me,"  said  the  doctor. 

"  Yes ;  but  I  am  very  sorry  Mrs.  Gray  is  so  ill !  She  is  Ish- 
maol's  aunt.    What  is  the  matter  with  her  ?  " 

"  Humph !  "  answered  the  doctor.  "Good-night,  Miss  Claudia. 
You  will  know  where  to  send  for  me,  if  I  am  wanted  here." 

"  Yes ;  but  I  am  so  sorry  about  Gray's  wife !  Is  she  in  dan- 
ger ? "  persisted  Claudia. 

"  Yes." 

"  I  am  very  sorry ;  but  what  ails  her  ? "  persevered  Claudia. 

"  Good-evening,  Miss  Merlin,"  replied  the  doctor,  lifting  his 
hat  and  departing. 

"  The  man  is  half  asleep ;  he  has  not  answered  my  question," 
grumbled  Claudia,  as  she  returned  to  her  seat  by  the  sick-bed. 

Just  then  the  bell  rung  for  the  late  dinner,  and  Claudia 
went  out  and  crossed  the  hall  to  the  dining  room,  where  she 
joined  her  father.  And  while  at  dinner  she  gave  him  a  more 
detailed  account  of  her  late  danger,  and  the  manner  in  which 
she  was  saved. 

Once  more  in  the  course  of  that  evening  Claudia  looked  in 
upon  the  wounded  boy,  to  ascertain  his  condition  before  re- 
tiring to  her  room.    He  was  still  sleeping. 


ISHMAEL   AT   TANGLEWOOD.  347 

"If  he  should  wake  up,  you  must  call  me,  no  matter  what 
time  of  night  it  is,  Katie,"  said  Miss  Merlin,  as  she  left  the  sick- 
chamber. 

"  Yes,  miss,"  answered  Katie,  who  nevertheless  made  up  her 
mind  to  use  her  own  discretion  in  the  matter  of  obedience  to 
this  order. 

Claudia  Merlin  was  not,  as  Ishmael  was,  of  a  religious  dis- 
position, yet  nevertheless  before  she  retired  to  bed  she  did 
kneel  and  pray  for  his  restoration  to  life  and  health ;  for,  some- 
how, the  well-being  of  the  peasant  youth  was  very  precious  to 
the  heiress.  Claudia  could  not  sleep;  she  lay  tumbling  and 
tossing  upon  a  restless  and  feverish  couch.  The  image  of  that 
mangled  and  bleeding  youth  as  she  first  saw  him  on  the  river 
bank  was  ever  before  her.  The  gaze  of  his  intensely  earnest 
eyes  as  he  raised  them  to  hers,  when  he  inquired,  "  Are  you 
safe? " — and  the  deep  smile  of  joy  with  which  they  closed  again 
when  she  answered,  "I  am  safe" — haunted  her  memory  and 
troubled  her  spirit.  Those  looks,  those  tones,  had  made  a  reve- 
lation to  Claudia ! — That  the  peasant  boy  presumed  to  love  her ! 
— ^her!  Claudia  Merlin,  the  heiress,  angel-born,  who  scarcely 
deemed  there  was  in  all  democratic  America  a  fitting  match 
for  her ! 

During  the  excitement  and  terror  of  the  day,  while  the  ex- 
tent of  Ishmael's  injuries  was  still  unknown  and  his  life  seemed 
in  extreme  danger,  Claudia  had  not  had  leisure  to  receive  the 
fact  of  Ishmael's  love,  much  less  to  reflect  upon  its  conse- 
quences. But  now  that  all  was  known  and  suspense  was  over, 
now  in  the  silence  and  solitude  of  her  bed-chamber,  the  images 
and  impressions  of  the  day  returned  to  her  with  all  their  reve- 
lations and  tendencies,  and  filled  the  mind  of  Claudia  with 
astonishment  and  consternation!  That  Ishmael  Worth  should 
be  capable  of  loving  her,  seemed  to  Miss  Merlin  as  miraculous 
as  it  would  be  for  Fido  to  be  capable  of  talking  to  her!  And 
in  the  wonder  of  the  affair  she  almost  lost  sight  of  its  presump- 
tion! 

But  how  should  she  deal  with  this  presuming  peasant  boy, 
who  had  dared  to  love  her,  to  risk  his  life  to  save  hers,  and  to 
let  the  secret  of  his  love  escape  him  ? 

For  a  long  time  Claudia  could  not  satisfactorily  answer  this 
question,  and  this  was  what  kept  her  awake  all  night.  To  neg- 
lect him,  or  to  treat  him  with  marked  coldness,  would  be  a  cruel 
return  for  the  sacrifice  he  had  rendered  her;  it  would  be  beside© 


348  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN"   THE   DEPTHS. 

making  the  affair  of  too  mucli  importance;  and  finally,  it 
would  be  "  against  the  grain  "  of  Claudia's  own  heart ;  for  in  a 
queenly  way  she  loved  this  Ishmael  very  dearly  indeed;  much 
more  dearly  than  she  loved  Fido,  or  any  four-footed  pet  she 
possessed;  and  if  he  had  happened  to  have  been  killed  in  her 
service,  Claudia  would  have  abandoned  herself  to  grief  for 
weeks  afterwards,  and  she  would  have  had  a  headstone  record- 
ing his  heroism  placed  over  his  grave. 

After  wearying  herself  out  with  conjectures  as  to  what  would 
he  the  becoming  line  of  conduct  in  a  young  princess  who  should 
discover  that  a  brave  peasant  had  fallen  in  love  with  her, 
Claudia  at  length  determined  to  ignore  the  fact  that  had  come 
to  her  knowledge  and  act  just  as  if  she  had  never  discovered 
•or  even  suspected  its  existence. 

"  My  dignity  cannot  suffer  from  his  presumptous  folly,  so 
long  as  I  do  not  permit  him  to  see  that  I  know  it;  and  as  for 
the  rest,  this  love  may  do  his  character  good ;  may  elevate  it ! " 
And  having  laid  this  balm  to  her  wounded  pride,  Claudia  closed 
her  eyes. 

So  near  sunrise  was  it  when  Miss  Merlin  dropped  off  that, 
once  asleep,  she  continued  to  sleep  on  until  late  in  the  day. 

Meanwhile  all  the  rest  of  the  family  were  up  and  astir.  The 
doctor  came  early  and  went  in  to  see  his  patient.  The  judge 
breakfasted  alone,  and  then  joined  the  doctor  in  the  sick-room. 
Ishmael  was  awake,  but  pale,  languid,  and  suffering.  The  doc- 
tor was  seated  beside  him.  He  had  just  finished  dressing  his 
wounds,  and  had  ordered  some  light  nourishment,  which  old 
Katie  had  left  the  room  to  bring. 

"How  is  your  patient  getting  along,  doctor?"  inquired  the 
judge. 

"  Oh,  he  is  doing  very  well — very  well  indeed,"  replied  the 
doctor,  putting  the  best  face  on  a  bad  affair,  after  the  manner 
of  his  class. 

"How  do  you  feel,  my  lad?"  inquired  the  judge,  bending 
over  the  ptatient. 

"  In  some  pain ;  but  no  more  than  I  can  very  well  bear,  thank 
you,  sir,"  said  Ishmael  courteously.  But  his  white  and  quiver- 
ing lip  betrayed  the  extremity  of  his  suffering,  and  the  diffi- 
culty he  experienced  in  speaking  at  all. 

"I  must  beg,  sir,  that  you  will  not  talk  to  him;  he  must  be 
left  in  perfect  quietness,"  whispered  the  doctor. 

At  this  moment  old  Katie  returned  with  a  little  light  jeUx 


ISHMAEL    AT   TANGLEWOOD.  349 

on  a  plate.    The  doctor  slowly  administered  a  few  teaspoonfuls 
to  his  patient,  and  then  returned  the  plate  to  the  nurse. 

"  Miss  Claudia  ordered  me  to  call  her  as  soon  as  the  young 
man  woke;  and  now  as  his  wounds  is  dressed,  and  he  has  had 
somethin'  to  eat,  I  might's  well  go  call  her,"  suggested  Katie. 

At  the  hearing  of  Claudia's  name  Ishmael's  eyes  flew  open, 
and  a  hectic  spot  blazed  upon  his  pale  cheek.  The  doctor,  who 
had  his  eye  upon  his  patient,  noticed  this,  as  he  replied: 

"  Upon  no  account !  Neither  Miss  Merlin  nor  anyone  else 
must  be  permitted  to  enter  his  room  for  days  to  come — not  un- 
til I  give  leave.  You  will  see  this  obeyed,  judge? "  he  inquired,, 
turning  to  his  host. 

"  Assuredly,"  replied  the  latter. 

At  these  words  the  color  faded  from  Ishmael's  face  and  the 
light  from  his  eyes. 

The  doctor  arose  and  took  leave. 

The  judge  attended  him  to  the  door,  saw  him  depart,  and  was. 
in  the  act  of  turning  into  his  own  house  when  he  perceived. 
Reuben  Gray  approaching. 

Judge  Merlin  paused  to  wait  for  his  overseer.  Eeuben  Gray 
came  up,  took  off  his  hat,  and  stood  before  his  employer  with 
the  most  comical  blending  of  emotions  on  his  weather-beaten 
countenance,  where  joy,  grief,  satisfaction,  and  anxiety  seemed 
to  strive  for  the  mastery. 

"  Well,  Gray,  what  is  it  ?  "  inquired  the  judge. 

"  Please,  sir,  how  is  Ishmael  ? "  entreated  lieuben,  anxiety 
getting  the  upper  hand  for  the  moment. 

"He  is  badly  hurt.  Gray;  but  doing  very  well,  the  doctor 
says„" 

"  Please,  sir,  can  I  see  him  ?  " 

"  Not  upon  any  account  for  the  present ;  he  must  be  left  in 
perfect  quiet.  But  why  haven't  you  been  up  to  inquire  after 
him  before  this  ?  " 

"  Ah,  sir,  the  state  of  my  wife." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  heard  she  was  ill ;  but  did  not  know  that  she  was- 
so  ill  as  to  prevent  your  coming  to  see  after  your  poor  boy.  I 
hope  she  is  better  now  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  thank  Heaven,  she  is  well  over  it !  "  said  Reuben, 
satisfaction  now  expressed  in  every  lineament  of  his  honest 
face. 

"  What  was  the  matter  with  her  ?  Was  it  the  cholera  morbus, 
that  is  so  prevalent  at  this  season  ? " 


S50  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  EST   THE   DEPTHS. 

Reuben  grinned  from  ear  to  ear;  but  did  not  immediately; 
reply. 

The  judge  looked  as  if  he  still  expected  an  answer.  Keuben 
scratched  his  gray  head,  and  looked  up  from  the  corner  of  his 
eye,  as  he  at  length  replied: 

"  It  was  a  boy  and  a  gal,  sir ! " 

"A  what?"  questioned  the  judge — perplexity. 

"A  boy  and  a  gal,  sir;  twins,  sir,  they  is,"  replied  Reuben 
Gray,  joy  getting  the  mastery  over  every  other  expression  in 
his   beaming   countenance. 

"  Why — you  don't  mean  to  tell  me  that  your  wife  has  pre- 
sented you  with  twins  ? "  exclaimed  the  judge,  both  surprised 
and  amused  at  the  announcement. 

"  Well,  yes,  sir,"  said  Reuben  proudly. 

"But  you  are  such  an  elderly  couple!  "  laughed  the  judge. 

"  Well,  yes,  sir,  so  we  is !  And  that,  I  take  it,  is  the  very 
reason  on't.  You  see,  I  think,  sir,  because  we  married  very  late 
in  life — poor  Hannah  and  me — natur*  took  a  consideration  on 
to  it,  and,  as  we  hadn't  much  time  before  us,  she  sent  us  two 
at  once!  at  least,  if  that  aint  the  reason,  I  can't  account  for 
them  both  in  any  other  way !  "  said  Reuben,  looking  up. 

"  That's  it !  You've  hit  it,  Reuben !  "  said  the  judge,  laugh- 
ing. And  mind,  if  they  live,  I'll  stand  godfather  to  the  babies 
at  the  christening.     Are  they  fine  healthy  children  ? " 

"  As  bouncing  babies,  sir,  as  ever  you  set  eyes  on  I  "  answered 
Reuben  triumphantly. 

"  Count  on  me,  then.  Gray." 

*'  Thank  you,  sir !    And,  your  honor " 

"Well,  Gray?" 

*'  Soon  as  ever  Ishmael  is  able  to  hear  the  news,  tell  him,  will 
you,  please?  I  think  it  will  set  him  up,  and  help  him  on  to- 
wards his  recovery." 

"I  think  so,  too,"  said  the  judge. 

Reuben  touched  his  hat  and  withdrew.  And  the  judge  re- 
turned to  the  house. 

Claudia  had  come  down  and  breakfasted,  but  was  in  a  state  of 
great  annoyance  because  she  was  denied  admittance  to  the  bed- 
side of  her  suffering  favorite. 

The  judge,  to  divert  her  thoughts,  told  her  of  the  bountiful 
present  nature  had  made  to  Hannah  and  Reuben  Gray.  At 
w^hich  Miss  Claudia  was  so  pleased  that  she  got  up  and  went 
to  hunt  through  all  her  finery  for  presents  for  the  children. 


THE   HEIRESS.  351 

CHAPTER  XLin. 

THE  HEIRESS. 

Trust  me,  Clara  Vere  de  Vere, 

From  yon  blue  heavens  above  us  bent, 
The  graud  old  gardener  and  his  wife 

Smile  at  the  claims  of  long  descent, 
Howe'er  it  be,  it  seems  to  me, 

'Tis  only  uoble  to  be  good; 
Kind  hearts  are  more  than  coronets, 

And  simple  faith  than  Norman  blood. 

—  Tennyson. 

Almost  any  other  youth  than  Ishmael  Worth  would  have  'died 
of  such  injuries  as  he  had  sustained.  But  owing  to  that  inde- 
structible vitality  and  irrepressible  elasticity  of  organization 
which  had  carried  him  safely  through  the  deadly  perils  of  his 
miserable  infancy,  he  survived. 

About  the  fourth  day  of  his  illness  the  irritative  fever  of  his 
wounds  having  been  subdued,  Judge  Merlin  was  admitted  to 
see  and  converse  with  him. 

Up  to  this  morning  the  judge  had  thought  of  the  victim  only 
as  the  overseer's  nephew,  a  poor,  laboring  youth  about  the  es- 
tate, who  had  got  hurt  in  doing  his  duty  and  stopping  Miss 
Merlin's  runaway  horses;  and  he  supposed  that  he,  Judge  Mer- 
lin, had  done  his  part  in  simply  taking  the  suffering  youth  into 
his  own  house  and  having  him  properly  attended  to.  And  now 
the  judge  went  to  the  patient  with  the  intention  of  praising 
his  courage  and  offering  him  some  proper  reward  for  his  ser- 
vices— as,  for  instance,  a  permanent  situation  to  work  on  tho 
estate  for  good  wages. 

And  so  Judge  Merlin  entered  the  sick-chamber,  which  was  no 
longer  darkened,  but  had  all  the  windows  open  to  admit  the 
light  and  air. 

He  took  a  chair  and  seated  himself  by  the  bedside  of  the  pa- 
tient, and  for  the  first  time  took  a  good  look  at  him. 

Ishmael's  handsome  face,  no  longer  distorted  by  suffering, 
was  calm  and  clear;  his  eyes  were  closed  in  repose  but  not  in 
sleep,  for  the  moment  the  judge  "  hemmed "  he  raised  his 
eyelids  and  greeted  his  host  with  a  gentle  smile  and  nod. 

Judge  Merlin  could  not  but  be  struck  with  the  delicacy,  re- 
finement, and  intellectuality  of  Ishmael's  countenance. 

"  How  do  you  feel  yourself  this  morning,  my  lad  ? "  he  in« 
guired,  putting  the  usual  commonplace  question. 


552  ishmael;  or.,  ix  the  depths. 

"  Much  easier,  thank  yon,  sir,"  replied  the  youth,  in  the  pure, 
sweet,  modulated  tones  of  a  highly-cultivated  nature. 

The  judge  was  surprised,  but  did  not  show  that  he  was  so, 
as  he  said: 

"  You  have  done  my  daughter  a  great  service ;  but  at  the 
cost  of  much  suffering  to  yourself,  I  fear,  my  lad." 

"  I  consider  myself  very  fortunate  and  happy,  sir,  in  having 
had  the  privilege  of  rendering  Miss  Merlin  any  service,  at  what- 
ever cost  to  myself,"  replied  Ishmael,  with  graceful  courtesy. 

More  and  more  astonished  at  the  words  and  manner  of  the 
young  workman,  the  judge  continued: 

"  Thank  you,  young  man ;  very  properly  spoken — very  prop- 
erly :  but  for  all  that,  I  must  find  some  way  of  rewarding  you." 

"  Sir,"  said  Ishmael,  with  gentle  dignity,  "  I  must  beg  you 
w^ill  not  speak  to  me  of  reward  for  a  simple  act  of  instinctive 
gallantry  that  any  man,  worthy  of  the  name,  would  have  per- 
formed." 

"  But  with  you,  young  man,  the  case  was  different,"  said 
the  judge  loftily. 

"  True,  sir,"  replied  our  youth,  with  sweet  and  courteous 
dignity,  "  with  me  the  case  was  very  different ;  because,  with 
me,  it  was  a  matter  of  self-interest;  for  the  service  rendered 
to  Miss  Merlin  was  rendered  to  myself." 

"I  do  not  understand  you,  young  man,"  said  the  judge 
haughtily. 

"  Pardon  me,  sir.  I  mean  that  in  saving  Miss  Merlin  from 
injury  I  saved  myself  from  despair.  If  any  harm  had  befallen 
her  I  should  have  been  miserable ;  so  you  perceive,  sir,  that  the 
act  you  are  good  enough  to  term  a  great  service  was  too  natu- 
ral and  too  selfish  to  be  praised  or  rewarded;  and  so  I  must 
beseech  you  to  speak  of  it  in  that  relation  no  more." 

"  But  what  was  my  daughter  to  you  that  you  should  risk  your 
life  for  her,  more  than  for  another?  or  that  her  maimed  limbs 
or  broken  neck  should  affect  you  more  than  others  ? " 

"  Sir,  we  were  old  acquaintances ;  I  saw  her  every  day  when 
I  went  to  Mr.  Middleton's,  and  she  was  ever  exceedingly  kind 
to  me,"  replied  Ishmael. 

"  Oh !  and  you  lived  in  that  neighborhood  ? "  inquired  Judge 
Merlin,  who  immediately  jumped  to  the  conclusion  that  Ish- 
mael had  been  employed  as  a  laborer  on  Mr.  Middleton's  es- 
tate; though  still  he  could  not  possibly  account  for  the  refine- 
ment in  Ishmael's  manner  nor  the  excellence  of  his  language. 


THE   HEIRESS.  853 

"I  lived  in  tLat  neighborhood  with  my  Aunt  Hannah  until 
Uncle  Reuben  married  her,  when  I  accompanied  them  to  this 
place,"  answered  Ishmael. 

"  Ah !  and  you  saw  a  great  deal  of  Mr.  Middleton  and — and 
his  family  ? " 

"  I  saw  them  every  day,  sir ;  they  were  very,  very  kind  to  me." 

"  Every  day !  then  you  must  have  been  employed  about  the 
house,"  said  the  judge. 

An  arch  smile  beamed  in  the  eyes  of  Ishmael  as  he  answered : 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  was  employed  about  the  house — that  is  to  say^ 
in  the  schoolroom." 

"  Ah !  to  sweep  it  out  and  keep  it  in  order,  I  suppose ;  and, 
doubtless,  there  was  where  you  contracted  your  superior  tone 
of  manners  and  conversation,"  thought  the  judge  to  himself, 
but  he  replied  aloud : 

"  Well,  young  man,  we  will  say  no  more  of  rewards,  since  the 
word  is  distasteful  to  you;  but  as  soon  as  you  can  get  strong: 
again,  I  should  be  pleased  to  give  you  work  about  the  place  at 
fair  wages.  Our  miller  wants  a  white  boy  to  go  around  with  the 
grist.    Would  you  like  the  place  ?  " 

"  I  thank  you,  sir,  no ;  my  plans  for  the  future  are  fixed ;  that 
is,  as  nearly  fixed  as  those  of  short-sighted  mortals  can  be," 
smiled  Ishmael. 

"  Ah,  indeed !"  exclaimed  the  judge,  raising  his  eyebrows, 
"  and  may  I,  as  one  interested  in  your  welfare,  inquire  what 
those  plans  may  be  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  sir,  and  I  thank  you  very  much  for  the  interest 
you  express,  as  well  as  for  all  your  kindness  to  me."  Ishmael 
paused  for  a  moment  and  then  added : 

"  On  the  first  of  September  I  shall  open  the  Eushy  Shore 
schoolhouse,  for  the  reception  of  day  pupils." 

"  Whe-ew!"  said  the  judge,  with  a  low  whistle,  "and  do  you 
really  mean  to  be  a  scheolmaster  ? " 

"  For  the  present,  sir,  until  a  better  one  can  be  found  to  fill 
the  place;  then,  indeed,  I  shall  feel  bound  in  honor  and  con- 
science to  resign  my  post,  for  I  do  not  believe  teaching  to  b© 
my  true  vocation." 

"  ISTo !  I  should  think  not,  indeed !  "  replied  Judge  Merlin, 
who  of  course  supposed  the  overseer's  nephew,  notwithstanding 
the  grace  and  courtesy  of  his  speech  and  manner,  to  be  fit  for 
nothing  but  manual  labor.  "  What  ever  induces  you  to  try 
school-keeping  ?  "  he  inquired. 


354  ISHMAEL  ;    OK,  IN   THE    DEPTHS. 

"  I  am  driven  to  it  by  my  own  necessities,  and  drawn  to  it 
by  the  necessities  of  others.  In  other  words,  I  need  employ- 
ment, and  the  neighborhood  needs  a  teacher — and  I  think,  sir, 
that  one  who  conscientiously  does  his  best  is  better  than  none 
at  all.  Those  are  the  reasons,  sir,  why  I  have  taken  the  school, 
with  the  intention  of  keeping  it  until  a  person  more  competent 
than  myself  to  discharge  its  duties  shall  be  found,  when  I  shall 
give  it  up;  for,  as  I  said  before,  teaching  is  not  my  ultimate 
vocation." 

"  What  is  your  '  ultimate  vocation,'  young  man  ?  for  I  should 
like  to  help  you  to  it,"  said  the  judge,  still  thinking  only  of 
manual  labor  in  all  its  varieties ;  "  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  Jurisprudence,"  answered  Ishmael. 

"Juris — what?"  demanded  the  judge,  as  if  he  had  not  heard 
aright. 

"  Jurisprudence — the  science  of  human  justice ;  the  know- 
ledge of  the  laws,  customs,  and  rights  of  man  in  communities; 
the  study  above  all  others  most  necessary  to  the  due  adminis- 
tration of  justice  in  human  affairs,  and  even  in  divine,  and 
second  only  to  that  of  theology,"  replied  Ishmael,  with  grave 
enthusiasm. 

"  But — you  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  intend  to  become  a 
lawyer  ? "  exclaimed  the  judge,  in  a  state  of  astonishment  that 
bordered  on  consternation. 

"  Yes,  sir ;  I  intend  to  be  a  lawyer,  if  it  please  the  Lord  to 
bless  my  earnest  efforts,"  replied  the  youth  reverently. 

"  Why — I  am  a  lawyer !  "  exclaimed  the  judge. 

"  I  am  aware  that  you  are  a  very  distinguished  one,  sir,  hav- 
ing risen  to  the  bench  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  your  native 
State,"  replied  the  youth  respectfully. 

The  judge  remained  in  a  sort  of  panic  of  astonishment.  The 
thought  in  his  mind  was  this:  What — you?  you,  the  nephew 
of  my  overseer,  have  you  the  astounding  impudence,  the  mad- 
ness, to  think  that  you  can  enter  a  profession  of  which  I  am  a 
member  ? 

Ishmael  saw  that  thought  reflected  in  his  countenance  and 
smiled  to  himself. 

"  But — how  do  you  propose  ever  to  become  a  laveyer  ? "  in- 
quired the  judge,  aloud. 

"  By  reading  law,"  answered  Ishmael  simply. 

"  What !  upon  your  own  responsibility  ?  " 

*'  Upon  my  own  responsibility  for  a  while.    I  shall  try  after* 


THE    HEIEESS.  355 

wards  to  enter  the  office  of  some  lawyer.  I  shall  use  every 
faculty,  try  every  means  and  improve  every  opportunity  that 
Heaven  grants  me  for  this  end.  And  thus  I  hope  to  succeed," 
said  Ishmael  gravely. 

"  Are  you  aware,"  inquired  the  judge,  with  a  little  sarcasm 
in  his  tone,  "  that  some  knowledge  of  the  classics  is  absolutely 
necessary  to  the  success  of  a  lawyer  ? " 

"  I  am  aware  that  a  knowledge  of  the  classics  is  very  de- 
sirable in  each  and  all  of  what  are  termed  the  '  learned  pro- 
fessions ' ;  but  I  did  not  know,  and  I  do  not  think,  that  it  can. 
be  absolutely  necessary  in  every  grade  of  each  of  these;  but  if 
so,  it  is  well  for  me  that  I  have  a  fair  knowledge  of  Latin  and 
Greek,"  replied  Ishmael. 

"  What  did  you  say  ?  "  inquired  the  judge,  with  ever- increas- 
ing wonder. 

Ishmael  blushed  at  the  perception  that  while  he  only  meant 
to  state  a  fact,  he  might  be  suspected  of  making  a  boast. 

"  Did  you  say  that  you  knew  anything  of  Latin  and  Greek  ?  " 
inquired  the  judge,  in  amazement. 

"  Something  of  both,  sir,"  replied  Ishmael  modestly. 

"  But  surely  you  never  picked  up  a  smattering  of  the  classics 
while  sweeping  out  Middleton's  family  schoolroom ! " 

"  Oh,  no,  sir !  "  laughed  Ishmael. 

"  Where  then  ?  " 

Ishmael's  reply  was  lost  in  the  bustling  entrance  of  Doctor 
Jarvis,  whom  Judge  Merlin  arose  to  receive. 

The  doctor  examined  the  condition  of  his  patient,  found 
him  with  an  accession  of  fever,  prescribed  a  complete  repose 
for  the  remainder  of  the  day,  left  some  medicine  with  direc- 
tions for  its  administration,  and  departed.  The  judge  accom- 
panied the  doctor  to  the  door. 

"  That  is  a  rather  remarkable  boy,"  observed  Judge  Merlin, 
as  they  went  out  together. 

"  A  very  remarkable  one !    Who  is  he  ?  "  asked  Doctor  Jarvis. 

"  The  nephew  of  my  overseer,  Reuben  Gray.  That  is  abso- 
lutely all  I  know  about  it." 

"  The  nephew  of  Gray  ?  Can  it  be  so  ?  Why,  Gray  is  but 
an  ignorant  boor,  while  this  youth  has  the  manners  and  educa- 
tion of  a  gentleman — a  polished  gentleman !  "  exclaimed  the 
doctor,  in  astonishment. 

"  It  is  true,  and  I  can  make  nothing  of  it,"  said  Judge  Mer- 
lin, shaking  his  head. 


S56  ISHMAEL  ;  OR,  ijst  the  depths. 

"  How  very  strange,"  mused  the  doctor,  as  he  mounted  his 
horse,  bowed  and  rode  away. 


CHAPTEE  XLIV. 

CLAUDIA'S  PERPLEXITIES. 

Oh,  face  most  fair,  shall  thy  beauty  compare 

With  affection's  glowing  light  V 
Oh,  riches  and  pride,  how  fade  ye  beside 

Love's  wealth,  serene  and  bright. 

— Martin  F.  Tupper. 

Judge  Merlin  went  into  his  well-ordered  library,  rang  the  bell, 
and  sent  a  servant  to  call  his  daughter. 

The  messenger  found  Claudia  walking  impatiently  up  and 
down  the  drawing-room  floor  and  turning  herself  at  each  wall 
with  an  angry  jerk.  Claudia  had  not  yet  been  admitted  to  see 
Ishmael.  She  had  just  been  refused  again  by  old  Katie,  who 
acted  upon  the  doctor's  authority,  and  Claudia  was  unreason- 
ably furious  with  everybody. 

Claudia  instantly  obeyed  the  summons.  She  entered  the 
library  with  hasty  steps,  closed  the  door  with  a  bang,  and  stood 
before  her  father  with  flushed  cheeks,  sparkling  eyes,  and 
heaving  bosom. 

"  Hey,  dey !  what's  the  matter  ? "  asked  the  judge,  taking  his 
pipe  from  his  mouth  and  staring  at  his  daughter. 

"  You  sent  for  me,  papa !  I  hope  it  is  to  take  me  in  to  see 
that  poor,  half-crushed  boy!  What  does  old  Katie  mean  by 
forever  denying  me  entrance?  It  is  not  every  day  that  a  poor 
lad  risks  his  life  and  gets  himself  crushed  nearly  to  death  in 
my  service,  that  I  should  be  made  to  appear  to  neglect  him 
in  this  way!  What  must  the  boy  think  of  me?  What  does  old 
Katie  mean,  I  ask  ? " 

"If  your  nature  requires  a  vehement  expression,  of  course 
I  am  not  the  one  to  repress  it !  Still,  in  my  opinion,  vehemency 
is  unworthy  of  a  rational  being,  at  all  times,  and  especially 
when,  as  now,  there  is  not  the  slightest  occasion  for  it.  You 
have  not  willfully  neglected  the  young  man;  it  is  not  of  the 
least  consequence  whether  he  thinks  you  have,  or  not;  and, 
finally,  Katie  means  to  obey  the  doctor's  orders,  which  ai'e  to 
keep  every  living  soul  out  of  the  sick-room  to  secure  the  pa- 
tient needful  repose.    I  believe  I  have  answered  you,  Miss.Mer- 


Claudia's  pekplexities.  357 

lin,"  replied  the  judge,  smiling  and  coolly  replacing  his  pipe  in 
iiis  mouth. 

"  Papa,  what  a  disagreeable  wet  blanket  you  are,  to  be  sure !  " 

"  It  is  my  nature  to  be  so,  my  dear ;  and  I  am  just  what  you 
need  to  dampen  the  fire  of  your  temperament." 

"  Are  those  the  orders  of  the  doctor  ?  *' 

"What,  wet  blankets  for  you?  ' 

•'No;  but  that  everybody  must  be  excluded  from  Ishmael's 
Toom  ? " 

"  Yes ;  his  most  peremptory  orders,  including  even  me  for 
the  present." 

"  Then  I  suppose  they  must  be  submitted  to  ? " 

"  For  the  present,  certainly." 

Claudia  shrugged  her  shoulders  with  an  impatient  gesture, 
and  then  said: 

"  You  sent  for  me,  papa.    Was  it  for  anything  particular  ? " 

"  Yes ;  to  question  you.  Have  you  been  long  acquainted  with 
this  Ishmael  Gray  ?  " 

"Ishmael  Worth,  papa!  Yes,  I  have  known  him  well  ever 
since  you  placed  me  with  my  Aunt  Middleton,"  replied  Claudia, 
throwing  herself  into  a  chair. 

The  judge  was  slowly  walking  up  and  down  the  library,  and 
he  continued  his  walk  as  he  conversed  with  his  daughter. 

"Who  is  this  Ishmael  Worth,  then?" 

"You  know,  papa;  the  nephew  of  Keuben  Gray,  or  rather 
of  his  wife;  but  it  is  the  same  thing." 

"  I  know  he  is  the  nephew  of  Reuben  Gray ;  but  that  explains 
nothing!  Gray  is  a  rude,  ignorant,  though  well-meaning  boor; 
but  this  lad  is  a  refined,  graceful,  and  cultivated  young  man." 

Claudia  made  no  comment  upon  this. 

"  Now,  if  you  have  known  him  so  many  years,  you  ought  to 
he  able  to  explain  this  inconsistency.  One  does  not  expect  to 
find  nightingales  in  crows'  nests,"  said  the  judge. 

Still  Miss  Merlin  was  silent. 

"  Why  don't  you  speak,  my  dear  ?  " 

Claudia  blushed  over  her  face,  neck,  and  bosom  as  she  an- 
swered : 

"  Papa,  what  shall  I  say  ?  You  force  me  to  remember  things 
I  would  like  to  forget.  Socially,  Ishmael  Worth  was  born  the 
lowest  of  all  the  low.  Naturally,  he  was  endowed  with  tho 
highest  moral  and  intellectual  gifts.  He  is  in  a  great  measure 
self-educated.     In  worldly  position  he   is   beneath   our  feet: 


358  ISHJVIAEL  ;    OE,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

in  wisdom  and  goodness  he  is  far,  far  above  our  heads.    He  is 

one  of  nature's  princes,  but  one  of  society's  outcasts."  „ 

"  But  how  has  the  youth  contrived  to  procure  the  means  ^ 

of  such  education  as  he  has  ? "   inquired  the  judge,   seating 
himself  opposite  his  daughter. 

"  Papa,  I  will  tell  you  all  I  know  about  him,"  replied  Claudia. 
And  she  commenced  and  related  the  history  of  Ishmael's 
struggles,  trials,  and  triumphs,  from  the  hour  of  her  first  meet- 
ing with  him  in  front  of  Hamlin's  book  shop  to  that  of  his 
self-immolation  to  save  her  from  death.  Claudia  spoke  with 
deep  feeling.  As  she  concluded  her  bosom  was  heaving,  her 
cheeks  were  flushed,  and  her  eyes  tearful  with  emotion. 

"  And  now,  papa,"  she  said,  as  she  finished  her  narrative, 
"you  will  understand  why  it  is  that  I  cannot,  must  not,  will 
not,  neglect  him!  As  soon  as  he  can  bear  visitors  I  must  be 
admitted  to  his  room,  to  do  for  him  all  that  a  young  sister 
might  do  for  her  brother ;  no  one  could  reasonably  cavil  at  that. 
Papa,  Ishmael  believes  in  me  more  than  anyone  else  in  the 
world  does.  He  thinks  more  highly  of  me  than  others  do.  He 
knows  that  there  is  something  better  in  me  than  this  mere 
outside  beauty  that  others  praise  so  foolishly.  And  I  would  not 
like  to  lose  his  good  opinion,  papa.  I  could  not  bear  to  have 
him  think  me  cold,  selfish,  or  ungrateful.  So  I  must  and  I  will 
help  to  nurse  him." 

"  Miss  Merlin,  you  have  grown  up  very  much  as  my  trees 
have,  vdth  every  natural  eccentricity  of  growth  un trimmed; 
but  I  hope  you  will  not  let  your  branches  trail  upon  the  earth." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  papa  ?  " 

"  I  hope  you  do  not  mean  to  play  Catherine  to  this  boy's 
Huon  in  a  new  version  of  the  drama  of  '  Love ;  or.  The  Countess 
and  the  Serf !  " 

"  Papa !  how  can  you  say  such  things  to  your  motherless 
daughter !  You  know  that  I  would  die  first !  "  exclaimed  the 
imperious  girl  indignantly,  as  she  bounced  up  and  flung  her- 
self into  a  passion  and  out  of  the  room.  She  left  the  door  wide 
open ;  but  had  scarcely  disappeared  before  her  place  in  the  door- 
way was  filled  up  by  the  tall,  gaunt  figure,  gray  head,  and  smil- 
ing face  of  Reuben. 

"Well,  Gray?" 

"Well,  sir,  I  have  brought  the  farm  books  all  made  up  to 
the  first  of  this  month,  sir,"  said  the  overseer,  laying  the  vol- 
umes on  the  table  before  his  master. 


Claudia's  peeplexities.  359 

"And  very  neatly  and  accurately  done,  too,"  remarked  the 
judge,  as  he  turned  over  the  pages  and  examined  the  items. 
"  It  is  not  your  handwriting.  Gray  ?  " 

"  Dear,  no,  sir !  not  likely !  " 

"Nor  little  Kitty's?" 

"  Why,  law,  sir !  little  Kitty  has  been  in  Calif orny  a  year  or 
more!  How  did  you  like  the  'rangement  of  your  libei'-airy, 
sir  ? "  inquired  Gray,  with  apparent  irrelevance,  as  he  glanced 
around  upon  the  book-lined  walls. 

"  Very  much,  indeed.  Gray !  I  never  had  my  books  so  well 
classified.  It  was  the  work  of  young  Eamsey,  the  schoolmaster, 
I  suppose,  and  furnished  him  with  employment  during  the 
midsummer  holidays.  You  must  tell  him  that  I  am  very  much 
pleased  with  the  work  and  that  he  must  send  in  his  account 
immediately." 

"Law  bless  you,  sir;  it  was  not  Master  Eamsey  as  did  it," 
said  Gray,  with  a  broad  grin. 

"  Who,  then  ?  Whoever  it  was,  it  is  all  the  same  to  me ;  I  am 
pleased  with  the  work,  and  willing  to  testify  my  approval  by 
a  liberal  payment." 

"  It  was  the  same  hand,  sir,  as  made  out  the  farm-books." 

"  And  who  was  that  ?  " 

"It  was  my  nephew,  Ishmael  Worth,  sir,"  replied  Eeuben, 
•with  a  little  pardonable  pride. 

"  Ishmael  Worth  again !  "  exclaimed  the  judge. 

"  Yes,   sir ;   he   done  'em  both." 

"  That  is  an  intelligent  lad  of  yours.  Gray." 

"  Well,  sir,  he  is  just  a  wonder." 

"  How  do  you  account  for  his  being  so  different  from — 
from " 

"  From  me  and  Hannah  ? "  inquired  the  simple  Eeuben,  help- 
ing the  judge  out  of  his  difficulty.  "  Well,  sir,  I  s'pose  as  how 
his  natur'  were  diff'ent,  and  so  he  growed  up  diff'ent  accord- 
in'  to  his  natur'.  Human  creeters  differ  like  wegetables,  sir; 
some  one  sort  and  some  another.  Me  and  Hannah,  sir,  we's 
like  plain  'tatoes ;  but  Ishmael,  sir,  is  like  a  rich,  bright  bloom- 
ing peach !     That's  the  onliest  way  as  I  can  explain  it,  sir.'' 

"  A  very  satisfactory  explanation,  Gray !  How  are  Hannah 
and  those  wonderful  twins?" 

"Fine,  sir;  fine,  thank  Heaven!  Miss  Claudia  was  so  good 
as  to  send  word  as  how  she  would  come  to  see  Hannah  as  soon 
as  she  was  able  to  see  company.    Now  Hannah  is  able  to-day. 


360  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE    DEPTHS. 

sir,  and  would  be  proud  to  see  Miss  Claudia  and  to  show  her 
the  babbies." 

"  Very  well,  Gray !  I  will  let  my  daughter  know,"  said  the 
judge,  rising  from  his  chair. 

Eeuben  took  this  as  a  hint  that  his  departure  was  desirable, 
and  so  he  made  his  bow  and  his  exit. 

In  another  moment,  however,  he  reappeared,  holding  his 
hat  in  his  hand  and  saying : 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir." 

"Well,  what  now?  what  is  it.  Gray?     What's  forgotten?" 

"If  you  please,  sir,  to  give  my  duty  to  Miss  Claudia,  and 
beg  her  not  to  let  poor  Hannah  know  as  Ishmael  has  been  so 
badly  hurt.  When  she  missed  him  we  told  her  how  he  was 
staying  up  here  long  of  your  honor,  and  she  naturally  thinks 
how  he  is  a-doing  some  more  liber-airy  work  for  you;  and 
we  dar'n't  tell  her  any  better  or  how  the  truth  is,  for  fear  of 
heaving  of  her  back,  sir." 

"  Very  well ;  I  will  caution  Miss  Merlin." 

"  And  I  hope,  sir,  as  you  and  Miss  Claudia  will  pardon  the 
liberty  I  take  in  mentioning  of  the  matter ;  which  I  wouldn't  go 
for  to  do  it,  if  poor  Hannah's  safety  were  not  involved." 

"  Certainly,  certainly.  Gray,  I  can  appreciate  your  feelings 
as  a  husband  and  father." 

"  Thank  your  honor,"  said  Eeuben,  as  he  departed. 

The  judge  kept  his  word  to  the  overseer,  and  the  same  hour 
conveyed  to  his  daughter  the  invitation  and  the  caution, 

Claudia  was  moped  half  to  death,  and  desired  nothing  better 
than  a  little  amusement.  So  the  same  afternoon  she  set  out 
on  her  walk  to  Woodside,  followed  by  her  own  maid  Mat- 
tie,  carrying  a  large  basket  filled  with  fine  laces,  ribbons,  and 
beads  to  deck  the  babies,  and  wines,  cordials,  and  jellies  to 
nourish  the  mother. 

On  arriving  at  Woodside  Cottage  Miss  Merlin  was  met  by 
Sally,  the  colored  maid  of  all  work,  and  shown  immediately 
into  a  neat  bedroom  on  the  ground  floor,  where  she  found  Han- 
nah sitting  in  state  in  her  resting-chair  beside  her  bed,  and 
contemplating  with  maternal  satisfaction  the  infant  prodigies 
that  lay  in  a  cradle  at  her  feet. 

"Do  not  attempt  to  rise!  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you  looking 
so  well,  Mrs.  Gray!  I  am  Miss  Merlin,"  was  Claudia's  frank 
greeting,  as  she  approached  Hannah,  and  held  out  her  hand. 

"  Thank  you,  miss ;  you  are  very  good  to  come ;  and  I  ana 


Claudia's  pekplexities.  361 

glad  to  sec  you,"  said  the  proud  mother,  heartily  shaking  the 
hand  offered  by  the  visitor. 

"  I  wish  you  much  joy  of  your  fine  children,  Mrs.  Gray." 

"  Thank  you  very  much,  miss.  Pray  sit  down.  Sally,  hand 
a  chair." 

The  maid  of  all  work  brought  one.  which  Claudia  took, 
saying : 

"  Now  let  me  see  the  twins." 

Hannah  stooped  and  raised  the  white  dimity  coverlet,  and 
proudly  displayed  her  treasures — two  fat,  round,  red-faced 
babies,  calmly  sleeping  side  by  side. 

What  woman  or  girl  ever  looked  upon  sleeping  infancy  with- 
out pleasure?  Claudia's  face  brightened  into  beaming  smiles 
as  she  contemplated  these  children,  and  exclaimed: 

"  They  are  beauties !  I  want  you  to  let  me  help  to  dress  them 
up  fine,  Mrs.  Gray!  I  have  no  little  brothers  and  sisters,  nor 
nephews  and  neices;  and  I  should  like  so  much  to  have  a  part 
property  in  these !  " 

"You  are  too  good,  Miss  Merlin." 

"  I  am  not  good  at  all.  I  like  to  have  my  own  way.  I  should 
like  to  pet  and  dress  these  babies.  I  declare,  for  the  want  of  a 
little  brother  or  sister  to  pet,  I  could  find  it  in  my  heart  to 
dress  a  doll!  See,  now,  what  I  have  brought  for  these  babies! 
Let  the  basket  down,  Mattie,  and  take  the  things  out." 

Miss  Merlin's  maid  obeyed,  and  displayed  to  the  astonished 
eyes  of  Hannah  yards  of  cambric,  muslin,  and  lawn,  rolls  of 
lace,  ribbon,  and  beads,  and  lots  of  other  finery. 

Hannah's  eyes  sparkled.  That  good  woman  had  never  been 
covetous  for  herself,  but  for  those  children  she  could  become 
so.  She  had  too  much  surly  pride  to  accept  favors  for  herself, 
but  for  those  children  she  could  do  so;  not,  however,  without 
some  becoming  hesitation  and  reluctance. 

"  It  is  too  much,  Miss  Merlin.  All  these  articles  are  much 
too  costly  for  me  to  accept,  or  for  the  children  to  wear,"  she 
began. 

But  Claudia  silenced  her  with : 

"  Nonsense !  I  know  very  well  that  you  do  not  in  your  heart 
think  that  there  is  anything  on  earth  too  fine  for  those  babies 
to  wear.  And  as  for  their  being  costly,  that  is  my  business. 
Mattie,  lay  these  things  on  Mrs.  Gray's  bureau." 

Again  Mattie  obeyed  her  mistress,  and  then  set  the  empty 
basket  down  on  the  floor. 


362  ISHMAEL ;  OE,  nsr  the  depths. 

"Now,  Mattie,  the  other  basket." 

Mattie  brought  it. 

"  Mrs.  Gray,  these  wines,  cordials,  and  jellies  are  all  of  do« 
mestie  manufacture — Katie's  own  make;  and  she  declares  them 
to  be  the  best  possible  supports  for  invalids  in  your  condition," 
said  Miss  Merlin,  uncovering  the  second  basket. 

"  But  really  and  indeed,  miss,  you  are  too  kind.  I  cannot 
think  of  accepting  all  these  good  things  from  you." 

"  Mattie,  arrange  all  those  pots,  jars,  and  bottles  on  the  man- 
tel shelf,  until  somebody  comes  to  take  them  away,"  said 
Claudia,  without  paying  the  least  attention  to  Hannah's  re- 
monstrances. 

When  this  order  was  also  obeyed,  and  Mattie  stood  with  both 
haskets  on  her  arms,  waiting  for  further  instructions.  Miss 
Merlin  arose,  saying: 

"  And  now,  Mrs.  Gray,  I  must  bid  you  good-afternoon.  I 
cannot  keep  papa  waiting  dinner  for  me.  But  I  will  come 
to  see  you  again  to-morrow,  if  you  will  allow  me  to  do  so." 

"  Miss  Merlin,  I  should  be  proud  and  happy  to  see  you  as 
often  as  you  think  fit  to  come." 

"  And,  mind,  I  am  to  stand  god-mother  to  the  twins." 

"  Certajnly,  miss,  if  you  please  to  do  so." 

"  By  the  way,  what  is  to  be  their  names  ?  " 

"  John  and  Mary,  miss — after  Reuben's  father  and  my 
mother." 

"  Very  well ;  I  will  be  spiritually  responsible  for  John  and 
Mary!     Good-by,  Mrs.  Gray." 

"  Good-by,  and  thank  you.  Miss  Merlin." 

Claudia  shook  hands  and  departed.  She  had  scarcely  got 
beyond  the  threshold  of  the  chamber  door  when  she  heard  the 
voice  of  Hannah  calling  her  back: 

"  Miss  Merlin !  " 

Claudia  returned. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  miss;  but  I  hear  my  nephew,  Ishmaei. 
Worth,  is  up  at  the  house,  doing  something  for  the  judge." 

■'  He  is  up  there,"  answered  Claudia  evasively. 

"  Well,  do  pray  tell  him,  my  dear  Miss  Merlin,  if  you  please, 
that  I  want  to  see  him  as  soon  as  he  can  possibly  get  home. 
Oh!  I  beg  your  pardon  a  thousand  times  for  taking  the  liberty 
of  asking  you,  miss." 

"  I  will  tell  him."  said  Claudia,  smiling  and  retiring. 

When  Miss  Merlin  had  gone   Hannah  stooped  and  contem- 


Claudia's  perplexities.  363 

plated  iter  own  two  children  with  a  mother's  insatiable  pride  and 
love.    Suddenly  she  burst  into  penitential  tears  and  wept. 

Why? 

She  was  gazing  upon  her  own  two  fine,  healthy,  handsome 
babies,  that  were  so  much  admired,  so  well  beloved,  and  so  ten- 
derly cared  for;  and  she  was  remembering  little  Ishmael  in  his 
poor  orphaned  infancy — so  pale,  thin,  and  sickly,  so  disliked, 
avoided,  and  neglected !  At  this  remembrance  her  penitent 
heart  melted  in  remorseful  tenderness.  The  advent  of  her  own 
children  had  shown  to  Hannah  by  retrospective  action  all  the 
cruelty  and  hardness  of  heart  she  had  once  felt  and  shown  to- 
wards Ishmael. 

"But  I  will  make  it  all  up  to  him — poor,  dear  boy!  I  will 
make  it  all  up  to  him  in  the  future!  Oh,  how  hard  my  heart 
was  towards  him!  as  if  he  could  have  helped  being  born,  poor 
fellow !  How  badly  I  treated  him !  Suppose  now,  as  a  punish- 
ment for  my  sin,  I  was  to  die  and  leave  my  babes  to  be  despised, 
neglected,  and  wished  dead  by  them  as  had  the  care  of  'em! 
How  would  I  feel?  although  my  children  are  so  much  healthier 
and  stronger,  and  better  able  to  bear  neglect  than  ever  Ishmael 
■was,  poor,  poor  fellow!  It  is  a  wonder  he  ever  lived  through 
it  all.  Surely,  only  God  sustained  him,  for  he  was  bereft  of 
nearly  all  human  help.  Oh,  Nora !  Nora !  I  never  did  my  duty 
to  your  boy;  but  I  will  do  it  now,  if  God  will  only  forgive  and 
spare  me  for  the  work ! "  concluded  Hannah,  as  she  raised  both 
her  own  children  to  her  lap. 

Meanwhile,  attended  by  her  maid.  Miss  Merlin  went  on  her 
■way  homeward.  She  reached  Tanglewood  in  time  for  dinner, 
at  six  o'clock. 

At  table  the  judge  said  to  her : 

"  Well,  Claudia !  the  doctor  has  been  here  on  his  evening 
■visit,  and  he  says  that  you  may  see  our  young  patient  in  the 
morning,  after  he  has  had  his  breakfast;  but  that  no  visitor 
must  be  admitted  to  his  chamber  at  any  later  hour  of  the  day." 

"  Very  well,  papa.  I  hope  you  will  give  old  Katie  to  under- 
stand that,  so  she  may  not  give  me  any  trouble  when  I  apply 
at  the  door,"  smiled  Claudia. 

''  Katie  understands  it  all,  my  dear,"  said  the  judge. 

And  so  it  was  arranged  that  Claudia  should  visit  her  young 
preserver  on  the  following  morning. 


564  ISHJIAEL  :    OE,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 


CHAPTEE  XLY. 

THE  INTERVIEW. 

The  lady  of  his  love  re-entered  there; 

She  was  serene  and  smiling  then,  and  yet 

She  knew  she  was  by  him  beloved— she  knew, 

For  quickly  comes  such  knowledge,  that  his  heart 

Was  darken'd  by  her  shadow;  and  she  saw 

That  he  was  wretched;  but  she  saw  not  all. 

He  took  her  hand,  a  moment  o'er  his  face 

A  tablet  of  nnntterable  thoughts 

Was  traced,  and  then  it  faded  as  it  came. 

— Byron. 

It  was  as  yet  early  morning;  but  the  day  promised  to  be 
sultry,  and  all  the  windows  of  Ishmael's  chamber  were  open 
to  facilitate  the  freest  passage  of  air.  Ishmael  lay  motionless 
upon  his  cool,  white  bed,  letting  his  glances  wander  abroad, 
whither  his  broken  limbs  could  no  longer  carry  him. 

His  room,  being  a  corner  one,  rejoiced  in  four  large  windows, 
two  looking  east  and  two  north.  Close  up  to  these  windows  grew 
the  clustering  woods.  Amid  their  branches  even  the  wildest 
birds  built  nests,  and  their  strange  songs  mingled  with  the 
rustle  of  the  golden  green  leaves  as  they  glimmered  in  the 
morning  sun  and  breeze. 

It  was  a  singular  combination,  that  comfortable  room, 
abounding  in  all  the  elegancies  of  the  highest  civilization,  and 
that  untrodden  wilderness  in  which  the  whip-poor-will  cried 
and  the  wild  eagle  screamed. 

And  Ishmael,  as  he  looked  through  the  dainty  white-draped 
■windows  into  the  tremulous  shadows  of  the  wood,  understood 
how  the  descendant  of  Powhatan,  weary  of  endless  brick  walls, 
dusty  streets,  and  crowded  thoroughfares,  should,  as  soon  as  he 
was  free  from  official  duties,  fly  to  the  opposite  extreme  of  all 
these — to  his  lodge  in  this  unbroken  forest,  where  scarcely  a 
woodman's  ax  had  sounded,  where  scarcely  a  human  foot  had 
fallen.  He  sjTnpathized  with  the  "  monomania  "  of  Randolph 
Merlin  in  not  i>ermitting  a  thicket  to  be  thinned  out,  a  road 
to  be  opened,  or  a  tree  to  be  trimmed  on  his  wild  woodland 
estate;  so  that  here  at  least,  nature  should  have  her  own  way, 
with  no  hint  of  the  world's  labor  and  struggle  to  disturb  her 
vital  repose. 

As  these  reveries  floated  through  the  clear,  active  brain  of 
the  invalid  youth,  the  door  of  his  chamber  softly  opened. 


THE   INTERVIETV.  365 

"Why  did  Islimael's  heart  bound  in  his  bosom,  and  every  pulse 
throb  ? 

She  stood  within  the  open  doorway!  How  lovely  she  looked, 
with  her  soft,  white  muslin  morning  dress  floating  freely 
around  her  graceful  form,  and  her  glittering  jet  black  ringlets 
shading  her  snowy  forehead,  shadowy  eyes,  and  damask  cheeks ! 

She  closed  the  door  as  softly  as  she  had  opened  it,  and  ad- 
vanced into  tlie  room. 

Old  Katie  arose  from  some  obscure  corner  and  placed  a  chair 
for  her  near  the  head  of  Ishmael's  bed  on  his  right  side. 

Claudia  sank  gently  into  this  seat  and  turned  her  face  to- 
wards Ishmael,  and  attempted  to  speak;  but  a  sudden,  hysteri- 
cal rising  in  her  throat   choked  her  voice. 

Her  eyes  had  taken  in  all  at  a  glance! — the  splintered  leg, 
the  bandaged  arm,  the  plastered  chest,  the  ashen  complexion, 
the  sunken  cheeks  and  the  hollow  eyes  of  the  poor  youth;  and 
utterance  failed  her ! 

But  Ishmael  gently  and  respectfully  pressed  the  hand  she 
had  given  him,  and  smiled  as  he  said: 

"  It  is  very  kind  of  you  to  come  and  see  me.  Miss  Merlin.  I 
thank  you  earnestly."  For,  however  strong  Ishmael's  emotions 
might  have  been,  he  possessed  the  self-controlling  power  of 
an  exalted  nature. 

"Oh,  Ishmael!"  was  all  that  Claudia  found  ability  to  say; 
her  voice  was  choked,  her  bosom  heaving,  her  face  pallid. 

"  Pray,  pray,  do  not  disturb  yourself,  Miss  Merlin ;  indeed  I 
am  doing  very  well,"  said  the  youth,  smiling.  The  next  instant 
he  turned  away  his  face;  it  was  to  conceal  a  spasm  of  agony 
that  suddenly  sharpened  all  his  features,  blanched  his  lips,  and 
forced  the  cold  sweat  out  on  his  brow.    But  Claudia  had  seen  it. 

"  Oh,  I  fear  you  suffer  very  much,"  she  said. 

The  spasm  had  passed  as  quickly  as  it  came.  He  turned  to 
her  his  smiling  eyes. 

"1  fear  you  suffer  very,  very  much,"  she  repeated,  looking 
at  him. 

"  Oh,  no,  not  much ;  see  how  soon  the  pain  passed  away." 

"  Ah !  but  it  was  so  severe  while  it  lasted !  I  saw  that  it 
caught  your  breath  away!  I  saw  it,  though  you  tried  to  hide 
it!  Ah!  you  do  suffer,  Ishmael!  and  for  me!  me,"  she  cried, 
forgetting  her  pride  in  the  excess  of  her  sympathy. 

The  smile  in  Ishmael's  dark  blue  eyes  deepened  to  ine&'able 
tenderness  and  beauty  as  he  answered  softly: 


366      ishmael;  oe,  in  the  depths. 

"  It  is  very,  very  sweet  to  suffer  for — one  we  esteem  and 
honor." 

"  I  am  not  worth  an  hour  of  your  pain !  "  exclaimed  Claudia, 
with  something  very  like  self-reproach. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Merlin,  if  you  knew  how  little  I  should  value  my 
life  in  comparison  with  your  safety."  Ishmael  paused;  for 
he  felt  that  perhaps  he  was  going  too  far. 

"  I  think  that  you  have  well  proved  how  ready  you  are  to  sac- 
rifice your  life  for  the  preservation,  not  only  of  your  friends, 
but  of  your  very  foes !  I  have  not  forgotten  your  rescue  of  Alf 
and  Ben  Burghe,"  said  the  heiress  emphatically,  yet  a  little 
coldly,  as  if,  while  anxious  to  give  him  the  fullest  credit  and 
the  greatest  honor  for  courage,  generosity,  and  magnanimity, 
she  was  desirous  to  disclaim  any  personal  interest  he  might 
feel  for  herself. 

"  There  is  a  difference.  Miss  Merlin,"  said  Ishmael,  with 
gentle  dignity. 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  there  is ;  one  would  rather  risk  one's  life  for 
a,  friend  than  for  an  enemy,"  replied  Claudia  icily. 

"  I  have  displeased  you.  Miss  Merlin ;  I  am  very  sorry  for  it. 
Pray,  forgive  me,"  said  Ishmael,  with  a  certain  suave  and  stately 
courtesy,  for  which  the  youth  was  beginning  to  be  noted. 

"  Oh,  you  have  not  displeased  me,  Ishmael !  How  could  you, 
you  who  have  just  risked  and  almost  sacrificed  your  life  to  save 
mine !  No,  you  have  not  displeased ;  but  you  have  surprised 
me!  I  would  not  have  had  you  run  any  risk  for  me,  Ishmael, 
that  you  would  not  have  run  for  the  humblest  negro  on  my 
father's  plantation;  that  is  all." 

"  Miss  Merlin,  I  would  have  run  any  risk  to  save  anyone  at 
need;  but  I  might  not  have  borne  the  after  consequences  in  all 
cases  with  equal  patience — equal  pleasure.  Ah,  Miss  Merlin, 
forgive  me,  if  I  am  now  happy  in  my  pain !  forgive  me  this  pre- 
sumption, for  it  is  the  only  question  at  issue  between  us,"  said 
the  youth,  with  a  pleading  glance. 

"  Oh,  Ishmael,  let  us  not  talk  any  more  about  me !  Talk  of 
yourself.     Tell  me  how  you  are,  and  where  you  feel  pain." 

"Nowhere  much,  Miss  Merlin." 

"  Papa  told  me  that  two  of  your  limbs  were  broken  and  your 
chest  injured,  and  now  I  see  all  that  for  myself." 

"  My  injuries  are  doing  very  well.  My  broken  bones  are 
knitting  together  again  as  fast  as  they  possibly  can,  my  phy- 
sician says." 


THE   INTERVIEW.  367 

"But  that  Is  a  very  painful  process,  I  fear,"  said  Claudia 
compassionately. 

"  Indeed,  no ;  I  do  not  find  it  so." 

"  Ah !  your  face  shows  what  you  endure.  It  is  your  chest, 
then,  that  hurts  you  ? " 

"  My  chest  is  healing  very  rapidly.  Do  not  distress  your 
kind  heart,  Miss  Merlin ;  indeed,  I  am  doing  very  well." 

"  You  are  very  patient,  and  therefore  you  will  do  well,  if  you 
are  not  doing  so  now.  Ishmael,  now  that  I  am  permitted  to 
visit  you,  I  shall  come  every  day.  But  they  have  limited  me 
to  fiiteen  minutes'  stay  this  morning,  and  my  time  is  up.  Good- 
morning,  Ishmael." 

"  Good-morning,  Miss  Merlin.  May  the  Lord  bless  you,"  said 
Ishmael,  respectfully  pressing  the  hand  she  gave  him. 

"  I  will  come  again  to-morrow ;  and  then  if  you  continue  to 
grow  better,  I  may  be  allowed  to  remain  with  you  for  half  an 
hour,"  she  said,  rising. 

"  Thank  you.  Miss  Merlin ;  I  shall  try  to  grow  better ;  you 
have  given  me  a  great  incentive  to  improvement." 

Claudia's  face  grew  grave  again.  She  bowed  coldly  and  left 
the  room. 

As  soon  as  the  door  had  closed  behind  her  Ishmael's  long- 
strained  nerves  became  relaxed,  and  his  countenance  changed 
again  in  one  of  those  awful  spasms  of  pain  to  which  he  was 
now  so  subject.  The  paroxysm,  kept  off  by  force  of  will,  for 
Claudia's  sake,  during  her  stay,  now  took  its  revenge  by  hold- 
ing the  victim  longer  in  its  grasp.  A  minute  or  two  of  mortal 
agony  and  then  is  was  past,  and  the  patient  was  relieved. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  call  pain ;  but  if  dis  'ere  aint  pain, 
I  don't  want  to  set  no  worser  de  longest  day  as  ever  I  live !  "■ 
exclaimed  Katie,  who  stood  by  the  bedside  wiping  the  deathly 
dew  from  the  icy  brow  of  the  sufferer. 

"  But  you  see — it  lasts  so  short  a  time — it  is  already  gone," 
gasped  Ishmael  faintly.  "  It  is  no  sooner  come  than  gone,"  he 
added,  with  a  smile. 

"And  no  sooner  gone,  nor  come  again!  And  a-most  taking 
of  your  life  when  it  do  come ! "  said  Katie,  placing  a  cordial 
to  the  ashen  lips  of  the  sufferer. 

The  stimulant  revived  his  strength,  brought  color  to  his 
cheeks  and  light  to  his  eyes. 

Ishmael's  next  visitor  was  Reuben  Gray,  who  was  admitted 
to  see  him  for  a  few  minutes  only.     This  was  Eeuben's  first 


f> 


68      ishmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 


visit  to  the  invalid,  and  as  under  the  transient  influence  of  tlie 
stimulant  Ishmael  looked  brighter  th^m  usual,  Reuben  thought 
that  he  must  be  getting  on  remarkably  well,  and  congratulated 
him  accordingly. 

Ishmael  smilingly  returned  the  compliment  by  wishing  Gray 
joy  of  his  son  and  daughter. 

Reuben  grinned  with  delight  and  expatiated  on  their  beauty, 
until  it  was  time  for  him  to  take  leave. 

"  Your  Aunt  Hannah  don't  know  as  you've  been  hurt,  my 
boy;  we  dar'n't  tell  her,  for  fear  of  the  consequences.  But 
now  as  you  really  do  seem  to  be  getting  on  so  well,  and  as  she 
is  getting  strong  so  fast,  and  continually  asking  arter  you,  I 
think  I  will  just  go  and  tell  her  all  about  it,  and  as  how  there 
is  no  cause  to  be  alarmed  no  more,"  said  Reuben,  as  he  stood, 
hat  in  hand,  by  Ishmael's  bed. 

"Yes,  do,  Uncle  Reuben,  else  she  will  think  I  neglect  her," 
pleaded  Ishmael. 

Reuben  promised,  and  then  took  his  departure. 

That  was  the  last  visit  Ishmael  received  that  day. 

Reuben  kept  his  word,  and  as  soon  as  he  got  home  he  grad- 
ually broke  to  Hannah  the  news  of  Ishmael's  accident,  softening 
the  matter  as  miich  as  possible,  softening  it  out  of  all  truth, 
for  when  the  anxious  woman  insisted  on  knowing  exactly  tho 
extent  of  her  nephew's  injuries,  poor  Reuben,  alarmed  for  the 
effect  upon  his  wife's  health,  boldly  affirmed  that  there  was 
nothing  worse  in  Ishmael's  case  than  a  badly  sprained  ankle, 
that  confined  him  to  the  house !  And  it  was  weeks  longer  before 
Hannah  heard  the  truth  of  the  affair. 

The  next  day  Claudia  Merlin  repeated  her  visit  to  Ishmael, 
and  remained  with  him  for  half  an  hour. 

And  from  that  time  she  visited  his  room  daily,  increasing 
each  day  the  length  of  her  stay. 

Ishmael's  convalescence  was  very  protracted.  The  severe 
injuries  that  must  have  caused  the  death  of  a  less  highly  vital- 
ized human  creature  really  confined  Ishmael  for  weeks  to  his  bed 
and  for  months  to  the  house.-  It  was  four  weeks  before  he 
could  leave  his  bed  for  a  sofa.  And  it  was  about  that  time 
that  Hannah  got  out  again;  and  incredulous,  anxious,  and 
angry  all  at  once,  walked  up  to  Tanglewood  to  find  out  for  her- 
self whether  it  was  a  "  siDrained  ankle "  only  that  kept  her 
nephew  confined  there. 

Mrs.   Gray  was  shown  at  once  to  the  convalescent's  room. 


THE   INTEEVIEW.  3G9 

where  Ishmael,  whose  very  breath  was  pure  truth,  being  asked, 
told  her  all  about  his  injuries. 

Poor  Hannah  wept  tears  of  retrospective  pity;  but  did  not 
in  her  inmost  heart  blame  Gray  for  the  "  pious  fraud  "  he  had 
practiced  with  the  view  of  saving  her  own  feelings  at  a  criti- 
cal time.  She  would  have  had  Ishmael  conveyed  immediately 
to  Woodside,  that  she  might  nurse  him  herself;  but  neither 
the  doctor,  the  judge,  nor  the  heiress  would  consent  to  his  re- 
moval; and  so  Hannah  had  to  submit  to  their  will  and  leavG 
her  nephew  where  he  was.  But  she  consoled  herself  by  walk- 
ing over  every  afternoon  to  see  Ishmael. 

Claudia  usually  spent  several  hours  of  the  forenoon  in  Ish- 
mael's  company.  He  was  still  very  weak,  pale,  and  thin.  His 
arm  was  in  a  sling,  and  as  it  was  his  right  arm,  as  well  as  his 
right  leg  that  had  been  broken,  he  could  not  use  a  crutch;  so 
that  he  was  confined  all  day  to  the  sofa  or  the  easy-chair,  in 
which  his  nurse  would  place  him  in  the  morning. 

Claudia  devoted  herself  to  his  amusement  with  all  a  sister's 
care.  She  read  to  him;  sung  to  him,  accompanying  her  song 
with  the  guitar;  and  she  played  chess — Ishmael  using  his  left 
hand  to  move  the  pieces. 

Claudia  knew  that  this  gifted  boy  worshiped  her  with  a  pas- 
sionate love  that  v/as  growing  deeper,  stronger,  and  more  ardent 
every  day.  She  knew  that  probably  his  peace  of  mind  would  be 
utterly  wrecked  by  his  fatal  passion.  She  knew  all  this,  and 
yet  she  would  not  withdraw  herself,  either  suddenly  or  grad- 
ually. The  adoration  of  this  young,  pure,  exalted  soul  was  an 
intoxicating  incense  that  had  become  a  daily  habit  and  neces- 
sity to  the  heiress.  But  she  tacitly  required  it  to  be  a  silent 
offering.  So  long  as  her  lover  worshiped  her  only  with  his 
eyes,  tones,  and  manners,  she  was  satisfied,  gracious,  and  cor- 
dial ;  but  the  instant  he  was  betrayed  into  any  words  of  admira- 
tion or  interest  in  her,  ehe  grew  cold  and  haughty,  she  chilled 
and  repelled  him. 

And  yet  she  did  not  mean  to  trifle  with  his  affections  or  de- 
stroy his  peace;  but — it  was  very  dull  in  the  country,  and 
Claudia  had  nothing  else  to  occupy  and  interest  her  mind  and 
heart.  Besides,  she  really  did  appreciate  and  admire  the  won- 
derfully endowed  peasant  boy  as  much  as  she  possibly  could  in 
the  case  of  one  so  immeasurably  far  beneath  her  in  rank.  And 
she  really  did  take  more  pride  and  delight  in  the  society 
of  Ishmael  than  in  that  of  any  other  human  being  she  had  ever 


370  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  rN-   THE   DEPTHS, 

met.  And  yet,  had  it  been  possible  that  Ishmael  shovJd  have 
been  acknowledged  by  his  father  and  invested  with  the  name, 
arms,  and  estate  of  Brudenell,  Claudia  Merlin,  in  her  present 
mood  of  mind,  wovdd  have  died  and  seen  him  die,  before  she 
would  have  given  her  hand  to  one  upon  whose  birth  a  single 
shade  of  reproach  was  even  suspected  to  rest. 

Meanwhile  Ishmael  reveled  in  what  would  have  been  a  fooFs 
paradise  to  most  young  men  in  similar  circumstances, — but 
which  really  was  not  such  to  him,  dreaming  those  dreams  of 
youth,  the  realization  of  which  would  have  been  impossible 
to  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  in  a  thousand  situated  as  he 
was,  but  which  intellect  and  will  made  quite  probable  for  him. 
With  his  master  mind  and  heart  he  read  Claudia  Merlin  thor- 
oughly, and  understood  her  better  than  she  understood  herself. 
In  his  secret  soul  he  knew  that  every  inch  of  progress  made 
in  her  favor  was  a  permanent  conquest  never  to  be  yielded  up. 
And  loving  her  as  loyally  as  ever  knight  loved  lady,  he  let  her 
deceive  herself  by  thinking  she  was  amusing  herself  at  his  ex- 
pense, for  he  was  certain  of  ultimate  victory. 

Other  thoughts  also  occupied  Ishmael.  The  first  of  Septem- 
ber, the  time  for  opening  the  Rushy  Shore  school,  had  come, 
and  the  youth  was  still  unable  to  walk.  Under  these  circum- 
stances, he  wrote  a  note  to  the  agent,  Brown,  and  told  him  that 
it  would  be  wrong  to  leave  the  school  shut  up  while  the  children 
of  the  neighborhood  remained  untaught,  and  requested  him  to 
seek  another  teacher. 

It  cost  the  youth  some  self-sacrifice  to  give  up  this  last  chance 
of  employment;  but  we  already  know  that  Ishmael  never  hesi- 
tated a  moment  between  duty  and  self-interest. 

September  passed.  Those  who  have  watched  surgical  cases 
in  military  hospitals  know  how  long  it  takes  a  crushed  and 
broken  human  body  to  recover  the  use  of  its  members.  It  was 
late  in  October  before  Ishmael's  right  arm  was  strong  enough 
to  support  the  crutch  that  was  needed  to  relieve  the  pressure 
upon  his  right  leg  when  he  attempted  to  walk. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  Judge  Merlin  was  heard  often 
to  complain  of  the  great  accumulation  of  correspondence  upon 
his  hands. 

Ishmael,  ever  ready  to  be  useful,  modestly  tendered  his  ser- 
vices to  assist. 

After  a  little  hesitation,  the  judge  thanked  the  youth  and 
accepted  his  offer.     And  the  next  day  Ishmael  was  installed 


THE   IXTERYIEW.  371 

in  a  comfortable  leather  chair  in  the  librsfry,  with  his  crutch 
beside  him  and  a  writing  table  covered  with  letters  to  be  read 
and  answered  before  him.  These  letters  were  all  open,  and  each 
had  a  word  or  a  line  penciled  upon  it  indicating  the  character 
of  the  answer  that  was  to.  be  given.  Upon  some  was  simply 
written  the  word  "  No  " ;  upon  others,  "  Yes  " ;  upon  others 
iigain,  "  Call  on  me  when  I  come  to  town  " ;  and  so  forth.  All 
this,  of  course,  Ishmael  had  to  put  into  courteous  language, 
iising  his  own  judgment  after  reading  the  letters. 

Of  course  it  was  the  least  important  part  of  his  correspond- 
ence that  Judge  Merlin  put  into  his  young  assistant's  hands; 
hut,  notwithstanding  that,  the  trust  was  a  very  responsible  one. 
Even  Islmiael  doubted  whether  he  could  discharge  such  un- 
familiar duties  with  satisfaction  to  his  employer. 

He  worked  diligently  all  that  day,  however,  and  completed 
the  task  that  had  been  laid  out  for  him  before  the  bell  rung 
for  the  late  dinner.  Then  he  arose  and  respectfully  called  the 
judge's  attention  to  the  finished  work,  and  bowed  and  left  the 
room. 

With  something  like  curiosity  and  doubt  the  judge  went  up 
to  the  table  and  opened  and  rea  i  three  or  four  of  the  letters 
written  for  him  by  his  young  amanuensis.  And  as  he  read,  sur- 
prise and  pleasure  lighted  up  his  countenance. 

"  The  boy  is  a  born  diplomatist !  I  should  not  wonder  if  the 
"world  should  hear  of  him  some  day,  after  all ! "  he  said,  as  he 
read  letter  after  letter  that  had  been  left  unsealed  for  his 
optional  perusal.  In  these  letters  he  found  his  own  hard 
*'  No's  "  expressed  with  a  courtesy  that  softened  them  even  to 
the  most  bitterly  disappointed ;  his  arrogant  "  Yes's,"  with  a 
delicacy  that  could  not  wound  the  self-love  of  the  most  sen- 
sitive petitioner;  and  his  intermediate,  doubtful  answers  ren- 
dered with  a  clearness  of  which  by  their  very  nature  they  seemed 
incapable. 

"  The  boy  is  a  bom  diplomatist,"  repeated  the  judge  in  an 
accession  of  astonishment. 

But  he  was  wrong  in  his  judgment  of  Ishmael.  If  the  youth's 
style  of  writing  was  gracious,  courteous,  delicate,  it  was  be- 
cause his  inmost  nature  was  pure,  refined,  and  benignant.  If 
his  letters  denying  favors  soothed  rather  than  offended  the 
applicant,  and  of  those  granting  favors  flattered  rather  than, 
humiliated  the  petitioner,  it  was  because  of  that  angelic  atri- 
bute  of  Ishmael's  soul  that  made  it  so  painful  to  him  to  give 


372  ISIIMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

pain,  so  delightful  to  impart  delight.  There  was  no  thought 
of  diplomatic  dealing  in  all  Ishmael's  truthful  soul. 

The  judge  was  excessively  pleased  with  his  young  assistant. 
Judge  Merlin  was  an  excellent  lawyer,  but  no  orator,  and  never 
had  been,  nor  could  be  one.  He  had  not  himself  the  gift  of 
eloquence  either  in  speaking  or  writing;  and,  therefore,  per- 
haps he  was  the  more  astonished  and  pleased  to  find  it  in  the 
possession  of  his  letter-writer.  He  was  pleased  to  have  his  cor- 
respondence well  vpritten,  for  it  reflected  credit  upon  himself. 

Under  the  influence  of  his  surprise  and  pleasure  he  took  up 
his  hand  full  of  letters  and  went  directly  to  Ishmael's  room. 
He  found  the  youth  seated  in  his  arm-chair  engaged  in  reading, 

"  What  have  you  there  ?  "  inquired  Judge  Merlin. 

Ishmael  smiled  and  turned  the  title-page  to  his  questioner. 

"  Humph !  '  Coke  upon  Lyttleton.'  Lay  it  dovpn,  Islimael,  and 
attend  to  m.e,"  said  the  judge,  drawing  a  chair  and  seating 
himself  beside  the  youth. 

Ishmael  immediately  closed  the  book  and  gave  the  most  re- 
spectful attention. 

"  I  am  very  much  pleased  with  the  manner  in  which  you 
have  accomplished  your  task,  Ishmael.  You  have  done  your 
work  remarkably  well !  So  well  that  I  should  like  to  give  you 
longer  employment,"  he  said. 

Ishmael's  heart  leaped  in  his  bosom. 

"  Thank  you,  sir;  I  am  very  glad  you  are  satisfied  with  me," 
he  replied. 

"  Let  us  see  now,  this  is  the  fifteenth  of  October ;  I  shall  re- 
main here  until  the  first  of  December,  when  we  go  to  town;  a 
matter  of  six  weeks ;  and  I  shall  be  glad,  Ishmael,  during  the 
interval  of  my  stay  here,  to  retain  you  as  my  assistant.  What 
say  you  ? " 

"  Indeed,  sir,  I  shall  feel  honored  and  happy  in  serving  you." 

"  I  will  give  you  what  I  consider  a  fair  compensation  for 
so  young  a  beginner.    By  the  way,  how  old  are  you  ? " 

"  I  shall  be  nineteen  in  December," 

"  Very  well ;  I  will  give  you  twenty  dollars  a  month  and  your 
hoard." 

"  Judge  Merlin,"  said  Ishmael,  as  his  pale  face  flushed  crim- 
son, "  I  shall  feel  honored  and  happy  in  serving  you ;  but  from 
you  I  cannot  consent  to  receive  any  compensation." 

The  judge  stared  at  the  speaker  with  astonishment  that  took 
all  power  of  reply  away;  but  Ishmael  continued: 


THE   IXTEKVIEW.  373 

"  Consider,  sir,  the  heavy  obligations  under  which  I  already 
rest  towards  you,  and  permit  me  to  do  what  I  can  to  lighten  the 
load." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  What  the  deuce  are  you  talking 
about  ? "  at  last  asked  the  judge. 

"  Sir,  I  have  been  an  inmate  of  your  house  for  nearly  three 
months,  nursed,  tended,  and  cared  for  as  if  I  had  been  a  son. 
of  the  family.  What  can  I  render  you  for  all  these  benefits? 
Sir,  my  gratitude  and  services  are  due  to  you,  are  your  own. 
Pray,  therefore,  do  not  mention  compensation  to  me  again," 
replied  the  youth. 

"  Young  man,  you  surprise  me  beyond  measure.  Your  grati- 
tude and  services  due  to  me?  For  what,  pray?  For  taking 
care  of  you  when  you  were  dangerously  injured  in  my  service? 
Did  you  not  receive  all  your  injuries  in  saving  my  daughter 
from  a  violent  death?  After  that,  who  should  have  taken  care 
of  you  but  me?  'Taken  care  of  you?'  I  should  take  care  of 
all  your  future !  I  should  give  you  a  fortune,  or  a  profession, 
or  some  other  substantial  compensation  for  your  great  service, 
to  clear  accounts  between  us !  "  exclaimed  the  judge. 

Ishmael  bowed  his  head.  Oh,  bitterest  of  all  bitter  mortifi- 
cations !  To  hear  her  father  speak  to  him  of  reward  for  saving 
Claudia's  life!  To  think  how  everyone  was  so  far  from  know- 
ing that  in  saving  Claudia  he  had  saved  himself!  He  had  a 
right  to  risk  his  life  for  Claudia,  and  no  one,  not  even  her 
father,  had  a  right  to  insult  him  by  speaking  of  reward! 
Claudia  was  his  own ;  Islunael  knew  it,  though  no  one  on  earth, 
not  even  the  heiress  herself,  suspected  it. 

The  judge  watched  the  youth  as  he  sat  with  his  fine  young 
forehead  bowed  thoughtfully  upon  his  hand;  and  Judge  Merlin 
understood  Ishmael's  reluctance  to  receive  pay;  but  did  not 
understand  the  cause  of  it, 

"  Come,  my  boy,"  he  said ;  "  you  are  young  and  inexperienced. 
You  cannot  know  much  of  life.  I  am  an  old  man  of  the  world, 
capable  of  advising  you.    You  should  follow  my  advice." 

"  Indeed,  I  will  gratefully  do  so,  sir,"  said  Ishmael,  raising 
his  head,  glad,  amid  all  his  humiliation,  to  be  advised  by 
Clavidia's  father. 

"  Then,  my  boy,  you  must  reflect  that  it  would  be  very  im- 
proper for  me  to  avail  myself  of  your  really  valuable  assist- 
ance without  giving  you  a  reasonable  compensation;  and  that, 
in  short,  I  could  not  do  it,"  said  the  judge  firmly. 


374  ishmael;  oe,  in  the  depths. 

"  Do  you  regard  the  question  in  tliat  light,  sir  ? "  inquired 
Ishmael  doubtingly. 

"  Most  assuredly.  It  is  the  only  true  light  in  which  to  re- 
gard it." 

"  Then  I  have  no  option  but  to  accept  your  own  terms,  sir. 
I  will  serve  you  gladly  and  gratefully,  to  the  best  of  my  ability," 
concluded  the  youth. 

And  the  affair  was  settled  to  their  mutual  satisfaction. 


CHAPTEK  XL VI. 

NEW  LIFE. 

Oh,  mighty  perseverance! 

Oh,  courage,  stern  and  Btout! 
That  wills  and  works  a  clearance 

Of  every  troubling  doubt, 
That  cannot  brook  denial 

And  scarce  allows  delay, 
But  wins  from  every  trial 

More  strength  for  every  day! 

—M.  F.  Tupper. 

"When  the  judge  met  his  daughter  at  dinner  that  evening, 
lie  informed  her  of  the  new  arrangement  affected  with  Ishmael 
Worth. 

Miss  Merlin  listened  in  some  surprise,  and  then  asked: 

"  Was  it  well  done,  papa  ?  " 

"What,  Claudia?" 

"  The  making  of  that  engagement  with  Ishmael." 

"  I  think  so,  my  dear,  as  far  as  I  am  interested,  at  least,  and 
I  shall  endeavor  to  make  the  arrangement  profitable  also  to 
the  youth." 

"  And  he  is  to  remain  with  us  until  we  go  to  town  ? " 

"Yes,  my  dear;  but  you  seem  to  demur,  Claudia.  Now  what 
is  the  matter?  What  possible  objection  can  there  be  to  Ishmael 
Worth  remaining  here  as  my  assistant  until  we  go  to  town  ?  "^ 

"Papa,  it  will  be  accustoming  him  to  a  society  and  style 
that  will  make  it  very  hard  for  him  to  return  to  the  company 
of  the  ignorant  men  and  women  who  have  hitherto  been  his  asso- 
ciates," said  Claudia. 

"  But  why  should  he  return  to  them  ?  Young  Worth  is  very 
talented  and  well  educated.  He  works  to  enable  him  to  study 
a  profession.  There  is  no  reason  on  earth  why  he  should  not 
succeed.     He  looks  like  a  gentleman,  talks  like  a  gentlemanp 


NEW   LIFE.  375 

find  behaves  like  a  gentleman!  And  there  is  nothing  to  pre- 
vent his  becoming  a  gentleman." 

"  Oh,  yes,  there  is,  papa !  Yes,  there  is  1 "  exclaimed  Claudia, 
"with  emotion. 

"To  what  do  you  allude,  my  dear?" 

"  To  his — low  birth,  papa !  "  exclaimed  Claudia,  with  a  gasp. 

"His  low  birth?  Claudia!  do  we  live  in  a  republic  or  not? 
If  we  do,  what  is  the  use  of  our  free  institutions,  if  a  deserving 
young  man  is  to  be  despised  on  account  of  his  birth?  Claudia, 
in  the  circle  of  my  acquaintance  there  are  at  least  half-a-dozen, 
prosperous  men  who  were  the  sons  of  poor  but  respectable 
parents." 

"  Yes !  poor,  but — respectable !  "  ejaculated  Claudia,  with  ex- 
ceeding bitterness. 

"My  daughter,  what  do  you  mean  by  that?  Surely  young 
Worth's  family  are  honest  people  ? "  inquired  the  judge. 

"  Ishmael's  parents  were  not  respectable !  his  mother  was 
never  married !  I  heard  this  years  ago,  but  did  not  believe  it. 
I  heard  it  confirmed  to-day !  "  cried  Claudia,  with  a  gasp  and 
a  sob,  as  she  sank  back  in  her  chair  and  covered  her  burning 
face  with  her  hands. 

The  judge  laid  down  his  knife  and  fork  and  gazed  at  his 
daughter,  muttering: 

"  That  is  unfortunate ;  very  unfortunate  1  'No,  he  will  never 
get  over  that  reproach ;  so  far,  you  are  right,  Claudia." 

"  Oh,  no,  I  am  wrong ;  basely  vtrrong !  He  saved  my  life,  and 
I  speak  these  words  of  him,  as  if  he  were  answerable  for  the  sins 
of  others — as  if  his  great  misfortmie  was  his  crime !  Poor  Ish- 
mael!  Poor,  noble-hearted  boy!  He  saved  my  life,  papa,  at 
the  price  of  deadly  peril  and  terrible  suffering  to  himself.  Oh, 
reward  him  well,  lavishly,  munificently ;  but-  send  him  away  I  T 
cannot  bear  his  presence  here !  "  exclaimed  the  excited  girl. 

"  Claudia,  it  is  natural  that  you  should  be  shocked  at  hearing 
such  a  piece  of  news ;  which,  true  or  false,  certainly  ought  never 
to  have  been  brought  to  your  ear.  But,  my  dear,  there  is  no 
need  of  all  this  excitement  on  your  part.  I  do  not  understand 
its  excess.  The  youth  is  a  good,  intelligent,  well-mannered  boy, 
when  all  is  said.  Of  course  he  can  never  attain  the  position  o£ 
a  gentleman;  but  that  is  no  reason  why  he  should  be  utterly 
cast  out.  And  as  to  sending  him  away,  now,  there  are  several 
reasons  why  I  cannot  do  that :  In  the  first  place,  he  is  not  able 
to  go;  in  the  second,  I  need  his  pen;  in  the  third,  I  have  mada 


(376  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IX   THE   DEPTHS. 

an  engagement  with  him  which  I  will  not  break.  As  for  the 
xest,  Claudia,  you  need  not  be  troubled  with  a  sight  of  him;  I 
will  take  care  that  he  does  not  intrude  upon  your  presence," 
said  the  judge,  as  he  arose  from  the  table. 

Claudia  threw  on  her  garden  hat  and  hurried  out  of  the 
house  to  bury  herself  in  the  shadows  of  the  forest.  That  day 
she  had  learned,  from  the  gossip  of  old  Mrs.  Jones,  who  was  on  a 
visit  to  a  married  daughter  in  the  neighborhood,  Ishmael's 
real  history,  or  what  was  supposed  to  be  his  real  history.  She 
had  struggled  for  composure  all  day  long,  and  only  utterly  lost 
her  self-possession  in  the  conversation  with  her  father  at  the 
dinner-table.  Now  she  sought  the  depths  of  the  forest,  because 
she  could  not  bear  the  sight  of  a  human  face.  Her  whole  na- 
ture was  divided  and  at  war  with  itself.  All  that  was  best  in 
Claudia  Merlin's  heart  and  mind  was  powerfully  and  constantly 
attracted  by  the  moral  and  intellectual  excellence  of  Ishmael 
"Worth;  but  all  the  prejudices  of  her  rank  and  education  were 
revolted  by  the  circumstances  attending  his  birth,  and  were  up 
in  arms  against  the  emotions  of  her  better  nature. 

In  what  consists  the  power  of  the  quiet  forest  shades  to  calm 
fierce  human  passions  ?  I  know  not ;  but  it  is  certain  that,  after 
walking  two  or  three  hours  through  their  depths  communing 
with  her  own  spirit,  Claudia  Merlin  returned  home  in  a  better 
mood  to  meet  her  father  at  the  tea-table. 

"Papa,"  she  said,  as  she  seated  herself  at  the  head  of  the 
table  and  made  tea,  "you  need  not  trouble  yousrelf  to 
keep  Ishmael  out  of  my  way.  Dreadful  as  this  discovery  is,  he 
is  not  to  blame,  poor  boy.  And  I  think  we  had  better  not  make 
any  change  in  our  treatment  of  him;  he  would  be  wounded  by 
our  coldness;  he  would  not  understand  it  and  we  could  not 
explain.  Besides,  the  six  weeks  will  soon  be  over,  and  then 
we  shall  be  done  with  him." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  so,  my  dear ;  especially  as  I  had 
invited  Ishmael  to  join  us  at  tea  this  evening,  and  forgotten 
to  tell  you  of  it  until  this  moment.  But,  Claudia,  my  little 
\girl,"  said  the  judge,  scrutinizing  her  pale  cheeks  and  heavy 
eyes,  "  you  must  not  take  all  the  sin  and  sorrows  of  the  world 
as  much  to  heart  as  you  have  this  case;  for,  if  you  do,  you  will 
he  an  old  woman  before  you  are  twenty  years  of  age." 

Claudia  smiled  faintly;  but  before  she  could  reply  the  regular 
monotonous  thump  of  a  crutch  was  heard  approaching  the 
door,  and  in  another  moment  Ishmael  stood  within  the  room. 


STEW   LIFE,  377 

There  was  nothing  in  that  fine  intellectual  countenance,  with 
its  fair,  broad,  calm  forehead,  thoughtful  eyes,  and  finely  curved 
lips,  to  suggest  the  idea  of  an  ignoble  birth.  With  a  gracefij 
bow  and  sweet  smile  and  a  perfectly  well-bred  manner,  Ishmael 
approached  and  took  his  seat  at  the  table.  The  judge  took  his 
crutch  and  set  it  up  in  the  corner,  saying: 

"I  see  you  have  discarded  one  crutch,  my  boyl  You  will 
be  able  to  discard  the  other  in  a  day  or  so." 

"Yes,  sir;  I  only  retain  this  one  in  compliance  with  the  in- 
junctions of  the  doctor,  who  declares  that  I  must  not  bear  full 
weight  upon  the  injured  limb  yet,"  replied  Ishmael  courteously. 

No  one  could  have  supposed  from  the  manner  of  the  youth 
that  he  had  not  been  accustomed  to  mingle  on  equal  terms 
in  the  best  society. 

Claudia  poured  out  the  tea.  She  was  not  deficient  in  cour- 
tesy; but  she  could  not  bring  herself,  as  yet,  to  speak  to  Ishmael 
with  her  usual  ease  and  freedom.  When  tea  was  over  she  ex- 
cused herself  and  retired.  Claudia  was  not  accustomed  to  seek 
Divine  help.  And  so,  in  one  of  the  greatest  straits  of  her  moral 
experience,  without  one  word  of  prayer,  she  threw  herself  upon 
her  bed,  where  she  lay  tossing  about,  as  yet  too  agitated  with 
mental  conflict  to  sleep. 

Ishmael  improved  in  health  and  grew  in  favor  with  his  em- 
ployer. He  walked  daily  from  his  chamber  to  the  library  with- 
out the  aid  of  a  crutch.  He  took  his  meals  with  the  family. 
And  oh!  ruinous  extravagance,  he  wore  his  Sunday  suit  every 
day !  There  was  no  help  for  it,  since  he  must  sit  in  the  judge's 
library  and  eat  at  the  judge's  table. 

Claudia  treated  him  well;  with  the  inconsistency  of  girlish 
nature,  since  she  had  felt  such  a  revulsion  towards  him,  and 
despite  of  it  resolved  to  be  kind  to  him,  she  went  to  the  extreme 
and  treated  him  better  than  ever. 

The  judge  was  unchanged  in  his  manner  to  the  struggling 
youth. 

And  so  the  time  went  on  and  the  month  of  November  arrived. 

Ishmael  kept  the  Rushy  Shore  schoolhouse  in  mind.  Up  to 
this  time  no  schoolmaster  had  been  found  to  undertake  its 
care.  And  Ishmael  resolved  if  it  should  remain  vacant  until 
his  engagement  with  the  judge  should  be  finished,  he  would  then, 
take  it  himself. 

All  this  while  Ishmael,  true  to  the  smallest  duty,  had  not 
xieglected    Keuben    Gray's    account-books.      They    had    been 


378  ishmael;  oe,  in  the  depths. 

brought  to  him  by  Gray  every  week  to  be  posted  up.  But  it 
was  the  second  week  in  November  before  Ishmael  was  able  to 
walk  to  Woodside  to  see  Hannah's  babes,  now  fine  children  of 
nearly  three  months  of  age.  Of  course  Ishmael,  in  the  geniality 
of  his  nature,  was  delighted  with  them;  and  equally,  of  course, 
he  delighted  their  mother  with  their  praises. 

The  last  two  weeks  in  November  were  devoted  by  the  judge 
and  his  family  to  preparations  for  their  departure. 

As  the  time  slipped  and  the  interval  of  their  stay  grew 
shorter  and  shorter,  Ishmael  began  to  count  the  days,  treas- 
uring each  precious  day  that  still  gave  him  to  the  sight  of 
Claudia. 

On  the  last  day  but  one  before  their  departure,  all  letters 
having  been  finished,  the  judge  was  in  his  library,  selecting 
books  to  be  packed  and  sent  off  to  his  city  residence.  Ishmael 
was  assisting  him.  When  their  task  was  completed,  the  judge 
turned  to  the  youth  and  said : 

"  Now,  Ishmael,  I  will  leave  the  keys  of  the  library  in  your 
possession.  You  will  come  occasionally  to  see  that  all  is  right 
here;  and  you  will  air  and  dust  the  books,  and  in  wet  weather 
have  a  fire  kindled  to  keep  them  from  molding,  for  in  the 
depths  of  this  forest  it  is  very  damp  in  winter.  In  recompense 
for  your  care  of  the  library,  Ishmael,  I  will  give  you  the  use  of 
such  law  books  as  you  may  need  to  continue  your  studies.  Here 
is  a  list  of  works  that  I  recommend  you  to  read  in  the  order  in 
which  they  are  written  down,"  said  the  judge,  handing  the  youth 
a  folded  pai>er. 

"  I  thank  you,  sir ;  I  thank  you  very  much,"  answered  Ish- 
mael fervently. 

"  You  can  either  read  them  here,  or  take  them  home  with  you, 
just  as  you  please,"  continued  the  judge. 

"  You  are  very  kind,  and  I  am  very  grateful,  sir." 

"It  seems  to  me  I  am  only  just,  and  scarcely  that,  Ishmael! 
The  county  court  opens  at  Shelton  on  the  first  of  December. 
I  would  strongly  recommend  you  to  attend  its  sessions  and 
watch  its  trials;  it  will  be  a  very  good  school  for  you,  and  a 
great  help  to  the  progress  of  your  studies." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,  I  will  follow  your  advice." 

"  And  after  a  while  I  hope  you  will  be  able  to  go  for  a  term  or 
two  to  one  of  the  good  Northern  law  schools." 

"  I  hope  so,  sir ;  and  for  that  purpose  I  must  work  hard." 

"And  if  you  should  ever  succeed  in  getting  admitted  to  the 


NEW    LIFE.  379 

bar,  Ishmael,  I  should  advise  you  to  go  to  the  Far  West.  It  may 
seem  premature  to  give  you  this  counsel  now,  but  I  give  it, 
while  I  think  of  it,  because  after  parting  with  you  I  may  never 
see  you  again." 

"  Again  I  thank  you,  Judge  Merlin ;  but  if  ever  that  day  of 
success  should  come  for  me,  it  v;ill  find  me  in  my  native  State. 
I  have  an  especial  reason  for  fij^ing  my  home  here;  and  here 
I  must  succeed  or  fail ! "  said  Ishmael  earnestly,  as  he  thought 
of  his  mother's  early  death  and  unhonored  grave,  and  his  vow 
to  rescue  her  memory  from  reproach. 

"  It  appears  to  me  that  your  native  place  would  be  the  last 
spot  on  earth  where  you,  with  your  talents,  would  consent  to 
remain,"  said  the  judge  significantly. 

"  I  have  a  reason — a  sacred  reason,  sir,"  replied  Ishmael  ear- 
nestly, yet  with  some  reserve  in  his  manner. 

"A  reason  'with  which  the  stranger  intermeddleth  not,'  I 
suppose  ? " 

Ishmael  bowed  gravely,  in  assent. 

"  Very  well,  my  young  friend ;  I  will  not  inquire  what  it 
may  be,"  said  Judge  Merlin,  who  was  busying  himself  at  his 
writing  bureau,  among  some  papers,  from  which  he  selected 
one,  which  he  brought  forward  to  the  youth,  saying: 

"Here,  Ishmael — here  is  a  memorandum  of  your  services, 
which  I  have  taken  care  to  keep ;  for  I  knew  full  well  that  if  I 
waited  for  you  to  present  me  a  bill,  I  might  wait  forever.  You 
will  learn  to  do  such  things,  however,  in  time.  Now  I  find  by 
my  memorandum  that  I  owe  you  about  sixty  dollars.  Here  is 
the  money.  There,  now,  do  not  draw  back  and  flush  all  over 
your  face  at  the  idea  of  taking  money  you  have  v/ell  earned. 
Oh,  but  you  will  get  over  that  in  time,  and  when  you  are  a 
lawyer  you  will  hold  out  your  hand  for  a  thumping  fee  before 
you  give  an  opinion  on  a  case !  "  laughed  the  judge,  as  he  forced 
a  roll  of  banknotes  into  Ishmael's  hands,  and  left  the  library. 

The  remainder  of  the  day  was  spent  in  sending  off  wagon 
loads  of  boxes  to  the  landing  on  the  river  side,  where  they  were 
taken  off  by  a  rowboat,  and  conveyed  on  b'  ard  the  "  Canvas 
Back,"  that  lay  at  anchor  opposite  Tanglewood,  waiting  for 
the  freight,  to  transport  it  to  the  city. 

On  the  following  Saturday  morning  the  judge  and  his  daugh- 
ter left  Tanglewood  for  Washington.  They  traveled  in  the 
private  carriage,  driven  by  the  heroic  Sam,  and  attended  by  a 
mounted  groona.     The  parting^  which  shook  Ishmael's  whole 


380      ishmael;  oe,  m  the  depths. 

nature  like  a  storm,  nearly  rending  soul  and  body  asunder, 
.seemed  to  have  but  little  effect  upon  Miss  Merlin.  She  went 
through  it  with  great  decorum,  shaking  hands  with  Ishmael, 
wishing  him  success,  and  hoping  to  see  him,  some  fine  day,  on 
the  bench! 

This  Claudia  said  laughing,  as  with  good-humored  raillery. 

But  Ishmael  bowed  very  gravely,  and  though  his  heart  was 
breaking,  answered  calmly : 

*'  I  hope  so  too.  Miss  Merlin.    We  shall  see." 

"  Au  revoir ! "  said  Claudia,  her  eyes  sparkling  with  mirth, 

"  Until  we  meet !  "  answered  Ishmael  solemnly,  as  he  closed 
the  carriage  door  and  gave  the  coachman  the  word  to  drive  off. 

As  fhe  carriage  rolled  away  the  beautiful  girl,  who  was  its 
sole  passenger,  and  whose  eyes  had  been  sparkling  with  mirth 
but  an  instant  before,  now  threw  hei  hands  up  to  her  face, 
fell  back  in  her  seat,  and  burst  into  a  tempest  of  sobs  and  tears. 

Ignorant  of  what  was  going  on  within  its  curtained  inclosure, 
Ishmael  remained  standing  and  gazing  after  the  vanishing  car- 
riage, which  was  quickly  lost  to  view  in  the  deep  shadows  of  the 
forest  road,  until  Judge  Merlin,  who  at  the  last  moment  had  de- 
cided to  travel  on  horseback,  rode  up  to  take  leave  of  him  and 
follow  the  carriage. 

"Well,  good-by,  my  young  friend!  Take  care  of  yourself," 
were  the  last  adieus  of  the  judge,  as  he  shook  hands  with  Ish- 
mael, and  rode  away. 

"I  wish  you  a  pleasant  journey,  sir,"  were  the  final  words 
of  Ishmael,  sent  after  the  galloping  horse. 

Then  the  young  man,  with  desolation  in  his  heart,  turned 
into  the  house  to  set  the  library  in  order,  lock  it  up,  and  re- 
move his  own  few  personal  effects  from  the  premises. 

Reuben  Gray,  who  had  come  up  to  assist  the  judge,  receive 
his  final  orders,  and  see  him  off,  waited  outside  with  his  light 
wagon  to  take  Ishmael  and  his  luggage  home  to  Woodside. 
Reuben  helped  Ishmael  to  transfer  his  books,  clothing,  etc., 
to  the  little  wagon.  And  then  Ishmael,  after  having  taken 
leave  of  Aunt  Katie,  and  left  a  small  present  in  her  hand, 
jumped  into  his  seat  and  was  driven  off  by  Reuben. 

The  arrangement  at  Tangltwood  had  occupied  nearly  the 
whole  of  the  short  winter  forenoon,  so  that  it  was  twelve  o'clock 
meridian  when  they  reached  Woorside. 

They  found  a  very  comfortable  sitting  room  awaiting  them. 
Reuben  in  the  pride  of  paterniV  ^^^  refurnished  it.     There 


NEW    LIFE.  381 

was  a  warm  red  carpet  on  the  floor;  warm  red  curtains  at  the 
windows;  a  bright  fire  burning  in  the  fireplace;  a  neat  dinner- 
table  set  out,  and,  best  of  all,  Hannah  seated  in  a  low  rocking 
chair,  with  one  rosy  babe  on  her  lap  and  another  in  the  soft, 
white  cradle  bed  by  her  side.  Hamiah  laid  the  baby  she  held 
beside  its  brother  in  the  cradle,  and  arose  and  went  to  Ishmael, 
warmly  welcoming  him  home  again,  saying: 

"  Oh,  my  dear  boy,  I  am  so  glad  you  have  come  back !  I  will 
make  you  happier  with  us,  lad,  than  you  have  ever  been  before." 

"You  have  always  been  very  good  to  me.  Aunt  Hannah," 
said  Ishmael    wai-mly,  returning  her  embrace. 

"  No,  I  haven't,  Ishmael,  no,  I  haven't,  my  boy ;  but  I  will 
be.  Sally,  bring  in  the  fish  directly.  You  know  very  well  that 
Ishmael  don't  like  rock-fish  boiled  too  much,"  she  said  by  way 
of  commencement. 

The  order  was  immediately  obeyed,  and  the  family  sat  down 
to  the  table.  The  thrifty  overseer's  wife  had  provided  a  sump- 
tuous dinner  in  honor  of  her  nephew's  return.  The  thriving 
overseer  could  afford  to  be  extravagant  once  in  a  while.  Ah! 
very  different  were  those  days  of  plenty  at  Woodside  to  those 
days  of  penury  at  the  Hill  hut.  And  Hannah  thought  of  the 
difference,  as  she  dispensed  the  good  things  from  the  head  of  her 
well-supplied  table.  The  rock -fish  with  egg  sauce  was  followed 
by  a  boiled  ham  and  roast  ducks  with  sage  dressing,  and  the 
dinner  was  finished  off  with  apple  pudding  and  mince  pies  and 
new  cider. 

Ishmael  tried  his  best  to  do  justice  to  the  luxuries  affection 
had  provided  for  him;  but  after  all  he  could  not  satisfy  the  ex- 
pectation of  Hannah,  who  complained  bitterly  of  his  want  of 
appetite. 

After  dinner,  when  the  young  man  had  gone  upstairs  to  ar- 
range his  books  and  clothes  in  his  own  room,  and  had  left 
Hannah  and  Eeuben  alone,  Hannah  again  complained  of  Ish- 
mael's  derelictions  to  the  duty  of  the  dinner-table. 

"  It's  no  use  talking,  Hannah ;  he  can't  help  it.  His  heart 
is  so  full — so  full,  that  he  aint  got  room  in  his  insides  for  no 
victuals!  And  that's  just  about  the  truth  on't.  'Twas  the 
same  with  me  when  I  was  young  and  in  love  long  o'  you !  And 
wa'n't  you  contrairy  nyther?  Lord,  Hannah,  why  when  you 
used  to  get  on  your  high  horse  with  me,  I'd  be  offen  my  feed  for 
weeks  and  weeks  together.  My  heart  would  be  swelled  up  to 
my  very  throat,  and  my  stomach  wouldn't  be  nowhar ! " 


882  i'SHMAEL  ;    on,  IN   THE    DEPTHS. 

"  Reuben,  don't  be  a  fool,  it's  not  becoming  in  the  father  of 
a  family,"  said  Mrs.  Hannah,  proudly  glancing  at  the  twins. 

"  Law,  so  it  isn't,  so  it  isn't,  Hannah,  woman.  But  surely 
I  was  only  a-telling  of  you  what  ailed  Ishmael,  as  he  was  o3 
his  feed." 

"  But  what  foolishness  and  craziness  and  sottishness  for  Ish- 
mael to  be  in  love  with  Miss  Merlin ! "  exclaimed  Hannah  im- 
patiently. 

"  Law,  woman,  who  ever  said  love  was  anything  else  but  cra- 
ziness and  the  rest  of  it,"  laughed  Gray. 

"  But  Miss  Merlin  thinks  no  more  of  Ishmael  than  she  does 
of  the  dirt  under  her  feet,"  said  Hannah  bitterly. 

"  Begging  your  pardon,  she  thinks  a  deal  more  of  him  than 
she'd  like  anybody  to  find  out,"  said  honest  Reuben,  winking. 

"  How  did  you  find  it  out  then  ? "  inquired  his  wife. 

"  Law,  Hannah,  I  haven't  been  fried  and  froze,  by  turn,  with 
all  sorts  of  fever  and  ague  love  fits,  all  the  days  of  my  youth, 
■without  knowing  of  the  symptoms.  And  I  tell  you  as  how  the 
high  and  mighty  heiress.  Miss  Claudia  Merlin,  loves  the  very 
buttons  on  our  Ishmael's  coat  better  nor  she  loves  the  whole 
world  and  all  the  people  in  it  besides.  And  no  wonder !  for  of 
all  the  young  men  as  ever  I  seed,  gentlemen  or  workingmen, 
Ishmael  Worth  is  the  handsomest  in  his  looks,  and  his  manners, 
and  his  speech,  and  all.  And  I  believe,  though  I  am  not  much 
of  a  judge,  as  he  is  the  raost  intelligentest  and  book-larnedest. 
I  never  seed  his  equal  yet.  Why,  Hannah,  I  don't  believe  as 
there  is  e'er  a  prince  a-livin'  as  has  finer  manners — I  don't ! " 

"  But,  Reuben,  do  you  mean  what  you  say  ?  Do  you  really 
think  Miss  Claudia  Merlin  condescends  to  like  Ishmael?  I 
have  heard  of  ladies  doing  such  strange  things  sometimes;  but 
Miss  Claudia  Merlin !  " 

"  I  told  you_,  and  I  tell  you  again,  as  she  loves  the  very  but- 
tons offen  Ishmael's  coat  better  nor  she  loves  all  the  world  be- 
sides. But  she  is  as  proud  as  Lucifer,  and  ready  to  tear  Ker  own 
heart  out  of  her  bosom  for  passion  and  spite,  because  she  can't 
get  Ishmael  out  of  it!  She'll  never  marry  him,  if  you  mean 
that;  though  I  know  sometimes  young  ladies  will  marry  be- 
neath them  for  love;  but  Miss  Merlin  will  never  do  that.  She 
would  fling  herself  into  burning  fire  first !  " 

The  conversation  could  go  no  farther,  for  the  subject  of  it 
was  heard  coming  down  the  stairs,  and  the  next  mament  he 
opened  the  door  and  entered  the  room. 


EUSHY    SIIOKE.  383 

He  took  a  scat  near  Hannah,  smiling  and  saying: 

"  For  this  one  afternoon  I  will  take  a  holiday,  Aunt  Hannah, 
and  enjoy  the  society  of  yourself  and  the  babies." 

"  So  do,  Ishmael,"  replied  the  pleased  and  happy  mother. 
And  in  the  very  effort  to  shake  off  his  gloom  and  please  and  be 
pleased,  Ishmael  found  his  sadness  alleviated. 

He  was  never  weary  of  wondering  at  Hannah  and  her  chil- 
dren. To  behold  his  maiden  aunt  in  the  character  of  a  wife 
had  been  a  standing  marvel  to  Ishmael.  To  contemplate  her 
now  as  a  mother  was  an  ever-growing  delight  to  the  genial 
boy.  She  had  lost  all  her  old-maidish  appearance.  She  Vv^as 
fleshier,  fairer,  and  softer  to  look  upon.  And  she  wore  a  pretty 
bobbinet  cap  and  a  bright-colored  calico  wrapper,  and  she 
busied  herself  with  needlework  while  turning  the  cradle  with 
her  foot,  and  humming  a  little  nursery  song.  As  for  Reuben, 
he  arose  as  Ishmael  sat  down,  stood  contemplating  his  domestic 
bliss  for  a  few  minutes,  and  then  took  his  hat  and  went  out 
upon  his  afternoon  rounds  among  the  field  laborers.  A  happy 
man  was  Reuben  Gray! 


CHAPTER  XLVn. 

RUSHY  SHORE. 

He  feels,  he  feels  within  him 

Tliat  courage  iself-possessed, — 
That  force  that  ye  shall  win  him, 

The  brightest  and  tlie  best, — 
The  stalwarth  Saxon  daring 

That  steadily  steps  on, 
Unswerving  and  unsparing 

Until  the  goal  be  won ! 

—AT.  F.  Tupper. 

The  first  thing  Ishmael  did  when  he  found  himself  again  set- 
tled at  Woodside,  and  had  got  over  the  anguish  of  his  parting 
with  Claudia  and  the  excitement  of  his  removal  from  Tangle- 
wood,  was  to  walk  over  to  Rushy  Shore  and  inquire  of  Over- 
seer Brown  whether  a  master  had  yet  been  heard  of  for  the 
little  school. 

"No,  nor  aint  a-gwine  to  be!  There  aint  much  temptation 
to  anybody  as  knows  anything  about  this  'ere  school  to  take 
it.  The  chillun  as  comes  to  it, — well  there,  they  are  just  the 
dullest,  headstrongest,  forwardest  set  o'  boys  and  gals  as  ever 


384      ishmael;  oe,  in  the  depths. 

was;  and  their  fathers  and  mothers,  take  'em  all  together,  are 
the  bad-payingest !  The  fact  is,  cansarning  this  school,  one 
may  say  as  the  wexation  is  sartain  and  the  wages  un-sartain," 
answered  Brown,  whom  Ishmael  found,  as  usual,  sauntering 
through  the  fields  with  his  pipe  in  his  mouth. 

"  Well,  then,  as  I  am  on  my  feet  again,  and  no  other  master 
can  be  found,  I  will  take  it  myself — that  is  to  say,  if  I  can  have 
it,"  said  Ishmael. 

"  Well,  I  reckon  you  can.  Mr.  Middleton,  he  sent  his  lawyer 
down  here  to  settle  up  affairs  arter  he  had  bought  the  property, 
and  the  lawyer,  he  told  me,  as  I  had  been  so  long  used  to  the 
place  as  I  was  to  keep  on  a-managing  of  it  for  the  new  master ; 
and  as  a-letting  out  of  this  schoolhouse  was  a  part  of  my  busi- 
ness, I  do  s'pose  as  I  can  let  you  have  it,  if  you  like  to  take  it." 

"  Yes,  I  should,  and  I  engage  it  from  the  first  of  January. 
There  are  now  but  two  weeks  remaining  until  the  Christmas 
holidays.  So  it  is  not  worth  while  to  open  the  school  until 
these  shall  be  over.  But  meanwhile.  Brown,  you  can  let  your 
friends  and  neighbors  know  that  the  schoolhouse  will  be  ready 
for  the  reception  of  pupils  on  Monday,  the  third  of  January." 

"  Very  well,  sir ;  I'll  let  them  all  know." 

"  And  now.  Brown,  tell  me,  is  Mr.  Middleton's  family  coming 
in  at  the  first  of  the  year  ? "  inquired  Ishmael  anxiously. 

"  Oh,  no,  sir !  the  house  is  a  deal  too  damp.  In  some  places  it 
leaks  awful  in  rainy  weather.  There  be  a  lot  of  repairs  to 
be  made.  So  it  won't  be  ready  for  the  family  much  afore  the 
spring,  if  then." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that.  Will  you  give  me  Mr.  Middleton's 
address? " 

"His— which,  sir?" 

"  Tell  me  where  I  can  write  to  him.'* 

"  Oh !  he  is  at  Washington,  present  speaking ;  Franklin 
Square,  Washington  City;  that  will  find  him," 

"  Thank  you."  And  shaking  hands  with  the  worthy  overseer 
Ishmael  departed. 

And  the  same  day  he  wrote  and  posted  a  letter  to  Mr. 
Middleton. 

The  intervening  two  weeks  between  that  day  and  Christmas 
were  spent  by  Ishmael,  as  usual,  in  work  and  study.  He  made 
up  the  whole  year's  accounts  for  Beuben  Gray,  and  put  his 
farm  books  in  perfect  order.  Wliile  Ishmael  was  engaged  in 
this  latter  job,  it  occurred  to  him  that  he  could  not  always  be 


EUSIIY    SHORE.  385 

at  hand  to  assist  Eeuben,  and  that  it  would  be  much  better  for 
Gray  to  learn  enough  of  arithmetic  and  bookkeeping  to  make 
him  independent  of  other  people's  help  in  keeping  his  accounts. 

So  wheo  '  ihmael  brought  him  his  books  one  evening  and  told 
him  they  were  all  in  order  up  to  that  present  day,  and  Reuben, 
said: 

"  Thank  you,  Ishmael !  I  don't  know  what  I  should  do  with- 
out you,  my  lad ! "  Ishmael  answered  him,  saying  very  ear- 
nestly : 

"  Uncle  Reuben,  all  the  events  of  life  are  proverbially  very 
uncertain;  and  it  may  happen  that  you  may  be  obliged  to  da 
without  me;  in  which  case,  would  it  not  be  well  for  you  to  be 
prepared  for  such  a  contingency  ? " 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Ishmael  ?  "  inquired  Gray,  in  alarm. 

"  I  mean — had  you  not  better  learn  to  keep  your  books  your- 
self,  in  case  you  should  lose  me  ? " 

"  Oh,  Ishmael,  I  do  hope  you  are  not  going  to  leave  us ! " 
exclaimed  Reuben,  in  terror. 

"  JSTot  until  duty  obliges  me  to  do  so,  and  that  may  not  be 
for  years.  It  is  true  that  I  have  taken  the  Rushy  Shore  school- 
house,  which  I  intend  to  open  on  the  third  of  January ;  but  then 
I  shall  continue  to  reside  here  with  you,  and  walk  backward 
and  forward  between  this  and  that." 

"  What !  every  day  there  and  back,  and  it  such  a  distance !  " 

"Yes,  Uncle  Reuben;  I  can  manage  to  do  so,  by  rising  an 
hour  earlier  than  usual,"  said  Ishmael  cheerfully. 

"  You  rise  airly  enough  now,  in  all  conscience !  You're  up 
at  daybreak.  If  you  get  up  airlier  nor  that,  and  take  that 
long  walk  twice  every  day,  it  will  wear  you  out  and  kill  you — 
that  is  all." 

"  It  will  do  me  good.  Uncle  Reuben !  It  will  be  just  the  sort 
of  exercise  in  the  open  air  that  I  shall  require  to  antidote  the 
effect  of  my  sedentary  work  in  the  schoolroom,"  said  Ishmael 
cheerfully. 

"  That's  you,  Ishmael !  allers  looking  on  the  bright  side  of 
everything,  and  taking  hold  of  all  tools  by  the  smooth  handle! 
I  hardly  think  any  hardship  in  this  world  as  could  be  put  upon 
you,  would  be  took  amiss  by  you,  Ishmael." 

"  I  am  glad  you  think  so  well  of  me,  Uncle  Reuben ;  I  must 
try  to  retain  your  good  opinion;  it  was  not  of  myself  I  wished 
to  speak,  however,  but  of  you.  I  hope  you  will  learn  to  keep 
your  own  accounts,  so  as  to  be  independent  of  anybody  else's 


386  isnMAEL ;  or,  in  the  depths. 

assistance.  If  you  would  give  me  a  half  an  hour's  attention 
every  night,  I  could  teach  you  to  do  it  well  in  the  course  of  a 
few  weeks  or  months." 

"  Law,  Ishmael,  that  would  give  you  more  trouble  than  keep- 
ing the  books  yourself." 

"  I  can  teach  you,  and  keep  the  books  besides,  until  you  are 
able  to  do  it  yourself." 

"  Law,  Ishmael,  how  will  you  ever  find  the  time  to  do  all 
that,  and  keep  school,  and  read  law,  and  take  them  long  walks 
besides? " 

"  Why,  Uncle  Eeuben,  I  can  always  find  time  to  do  every 
duty  I  undertake,"  replied  the  persevering  boy. 

"  One  would  think  your  days  were  forty-eight  hours  long, 
Ishmael,  for  you  to  get  through  all  the  work  as  you   undertake." 

"  But  how  about  the  lessons.  Uncle  Reuben  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Ishmael,  I'm  too  old  to  larn;  it  aint  worth  while  now; 
I'm  past  fifty,  you  know." 

"  Well,  but  you  are  a  fine,  strong,  healthy  man,  and  may 
live  to  be  eighty  or  ninety.  ISTow,  if  I  can  teach  you  in  two  or 
three  months  an  art  which  will  be  useful  to  you  every  day  of 
your  life,  for  thirty  or  forty  years,  don't  you  think  that  it  is 
quite  worth  while  to  learn  it?  " 

"  Well,  Ishmael,  you  have  got  a  way  of  putting  things  as 
makes  people  think  they're  reasonable,  whether  or  no,  and  con- 
vinces of  folks  agin'  their  will.  I  think,  arter  all,  belike  you 
oughter  be  a  lawyer,  if  so  be  you'd  turn  a  judge  and  jury  round 
your  finger  as  easy  as  you  turn  other  people.  I'll  e'en  larn  of 
you,  Ishmael,  though  it  do  look  rum  like  for  an  old  man  like 
me  to  go  to  school  to  a  boy  like  you." 

*•'  That  is  right.  Uncle  Reuben.  You'll  be  a  good  accountant 
yet  before  the  winter  in  over,"  laughed  Ishmael. 

Christmas  came ;  but  it  would  take  too  long  to  tell  of  the  rus- 
tic merry-makings  in  a  neighborhood  noted  for  the  festive 
style  in  which  it  celebrates  its  Christmas  holidays.  There  were 
dinner,  supper,  and  dancing  parties  in  all  the  cottages  during 
the  entire  week.  Reuben  Gray  gave  a  rustic  ball  on  New 
Year's  evening.  And  all  the  country  beaus  and  belles  of  his 
rank  in  society  came  and  danced  at  it.  And  Ishmael,  in  the 
geniality  of  his  nature,  made  himself  so  agreeable  to  every- 
body that  he  unconsciously  turned  the  heads  of  half  the  girls 
in  the  room,  who  unanimously  pronounced  him  "  quite  the  gen- 
tleman." 


EUSHY   SHORE.  387 

This  was  the  last  as  well  as  the  gayest  party  of  the  holidays. 
It  broke  up  at  twelve  midnight,  because  the  next  day  was 
Sunday. 

On  Monday  Ishmael  arose  early  and  walked  over  to  Rushy 
Shore,  opened  his  schoolhouse,  lighted  a  fire  in  it,  and  sat  down 
at  his  teacher's  desk  to  await  the  arrival  of  his  pupils. 

About  eight  or  nine  o'clock  they  began  to  come,  by  ones, 
twos,  and  threes;  some  attended  by  their  parents  and  some 
alone.  Rough-looking  customers  they  were,  to  be  sure;  shock- 
headed,  sun-burned,  and  freckle-faced  girls  and  boys  of  the 
humblest  class  of  "poor  whites,"  as  they  were  called  m  the 
slave  States. 

Ishmael  received  them,  each  and  all,  with  that  genial  kind- 
ness which  always  won  the  hearts  of  all  who  knew  him. 

In  arranging  his  school  and  classifying  his  pupils,  Ishmael 
found  the  latter  as  ignorant,  stubborn,  and  froward  as  they 
had  been  represented  to  him. 

Sam  White  would  not  go  into  the  same  class  with  Pete  John- 
son because  Pete's  father  got  drunk  and  was  "had  up"  for 
fighting.  Susan  Jones  would  not  sit  beside  Ann  Bates  because 
Ann's  mother  "  hired  out."  Jem  Ellis,  who  was  a  big  boy  that 
did  not  know  his  A  B  C's,  insisted  on  being  put  at  the  head 
of  the  highest  class  because  he  was  the  tallest  pupil  in  the 
school.  And  Sarah  Brown  refused  to  go  into  any  class  at  all, 
because  her  father  was  the  overseer  of  the  estate,  and  she  felt 
herself  above  them  all! 

These  objections  and  claims  were  all  put  forth  with  loud 
voices  and  rude  gestures. 

But  Ishmael,  though  shocked,  was  not  discouraged.  "In 
patience  he  possessed  his  soul"  that  day.  And  after  a  while 
he  succeeded  in  calming  all  these  turbulent  spirits  and  reduc- 
ing his  little  kingdom  to  order. 

It  was  a  very  harassing  day,  however,  and  after  he  had  dis- 
missed his  school  and  walked  home,  and  given  Reuben  Gray 
his  lesson,  and  posted  the  account-book,  and  read  a  portion  of 
his  "  Coke,"  he  retired  to  bed,  thoroughly  wearied  in  mind  and 
body  and  keenly  appreciative  of  the  privilege  of  rest.  From 
this  day  forth  Ishmael  worked  harder  and  suffered  more  priva- 
tions than,  perhaps,  he  had  ever  done  at  any  former  period  of 
his  life. 

He  rose  every  morning  at  four  o'clock,  before  any  of  the 
family  were  stirring;  dressed  himself  neatly,  read  a  portion  of 


388  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IIT   THE   DEPTHS. 

the  Holy  Scriptures  by  candle-liglit,  said  his  prayers,  ate  a 
cold  breakfast  that  had  been  laid  out  for  him  the  night  before, 
and  set  off  to  walk  five  miles  to  his  schoolhouse. 

He  usually  reached  it  at  half -past  six;  opened  and  aired  the 
room,  and  made  the  fire;  and  then  sat  down  to  read  law  until 
the  arrival  of  the  hour  for  the  commencement  of  the  studies. 

He  taught  diligently  until  twelve  o'clock;  then  he  dismissed 
the  pupils  for  two  hours  to  go  home  and  get  their  dinners;  he 
ate  the  cold  luncheon  of  bread  and  cheese  or  meat  that  he  had 
brought  with  him;  and  set  oflf  to  walk  briskly  the  distance  of 
a  mile  and  a  half  to  Shelton,  where  the  court  was  in  session, 
and  where  he  spent  an  hour  watching  their  proceedings  and 
taking  notes.  He  got  back  to  his  school  at  two  o'clock;  called 
in  his  pupils  for  the  afternoon  session,  and  taught  diligently 
until  six  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  when  he  dismissed  them  for 
the  day,  shut  up  the  schoolhouse,  and  set  off  to  walk  home. 

He  usually  reached  Woodside  at  about  seven  o'clock,  where 
he  found  them  waiting  tea  for  him.  As  this  was  the  only  meal 
Ishmael  could  take  home,  Hannah  always  took  care  that  it 
should  be  a  comfortable  and  abundant  one.  After  tea  he  would 
give  Reuben  his  lesson  in  bookkeeping,  post  up  the  day's  ac- 
counts, and  then  retire  to  his  room  to  study  for  an  hour  or  two 
before  going  to  bed.  This  was  the  history  of  five  days  out  of 
every  week  of  Ishmael's  life. 

On  Saturdays,  according  to  custom,  the  school  had  a  holiday; 
and  Ishmael  spent  the  morning  in  working  in  the  garden.  As 
it  was  now  the  depth  of  winter,  there  was  but  little  to  do,  and 
half  a  day's  work  in  the  week  sufficed  to  keep  all  in  order. 
Saturday  afternoons  Ishmael  went  over  to  open  and  air  the 
library  at  Tanglewood,  and  to  return  the  books  he  had  read  and 
bring  back  new  ones.  Saturday  evenings  he  spent  very  much  as 
he  did  the  preceding  ones  of  the  week — in  giving  Reuben  his 
lesson,  in  posting  up  the  week's  accounts,  and  in  reading  law 
until  bed  time. 

On  Sundays  Ishmael  rested  from  worldly  labors  and  went 
to  church  to  refresh  his  soul.  But  for  this  Sabbath's  rest,  made 
obligatory  upon  him  by  the  Christian  law,  Ishmael  must  have 
broken  down  under  his  severe  labors.  As  it  was,  however,  the 
benign  Christian  law  of  the  Sabbath's  holy  rest  proved  hia 
salvation. 


ONWAED.  389 

CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

ONWARD. 

The  boldness  and  the  quiet, 

That  calmly  go  ahead, 
In  spite  of  wriith  and  riot, 

In  spite  of  quick  and  dead — 
"Warm  energy  to  spur  him, 

Keen  enterprise  to  guide. 
And  conscience  to  vipstir  him, 

And  duty  by  his  side, 
And  hope  forever  singing 

Assurance  of  success, 
And  rapid  action  springing 

At  once  to  nothing  less! 

— 31.  F.  Tupper. 

In  this  persevering  labor  Ishmael  clieerfully  passed  tlie  win- 
der months. 

He  had  not  heard  one  word  of  Claudia,  or  of  her  father,  ex- 
cept such  scant  news  as  reached  him.  through  the  judge's  occa- 
sional letters  to  the  overseer. 

He  had  received  an  encouraging  note  from  Mr.  Middleton. 
in  answer  to  the  letter  he  had  written  to  that  gentleman. 
About  the  first  of  April  Ishmael's  first  quarterly  school  bills 
began  to  be  due. 

Tuition  fees  were  not  high  in  that  poor  neighborhood,  and 
iis  pay  for  each  pupil  averaged  about  two  dollars  a  quarter. 
His  school  numbered  thirty  pupils,  about  one-third  of  whom 
never  paid,  consequently  at  the  end  of  the  first  three  months 
Hs  net  receipts  were  just  forty-two  dollars.  Not  very  encourag- 
ing this,  yet  Ishmael  was  pleased  and  happy,  especially  as  he 
felt  that  he  was  really  doing  the  little  savages  intrusted  to  his 
care  a  great  deal  of  good. 

Half  of  this  money  Islmiael  would  have  forced  upon  Hannah 
and  Reuben ;  but  Hannah  flew  into  a  passion  and  demanded  if 
her  nephew  took  her  for  a  money-grub;  and  Reuben  quietly 
assured  the  young  man  that  his  services  overpaid  his  board; 
which  was  quite  true. 

One  evening  about  the  middle  of  April  Ishmael  sat  at  his 
school  desk  mending  pens,  setting  copies,  and  keeping  an  eye 
on  a  refractory  boy  who  had  been  detained  after  school  hours 
to  learn  a  lesson  he  had  failed  to  know  in  his  class. 

Isnmael  had  just  finished  setting  his  last  copy  and  was  en- 


590  ISHMAEL  ;   OE,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

gaged  in  piling  the  copy-books  neatly,  one  on  top  of  another, 
when  there  came  a  soft  tap  at  the  door. 

"  Come  in,"  said  Ishmael,  fully  expecting  to  see  some  of  the 
refractory  boy's  friends  come  to  inquire  after  him. 

The  door  opened  and  a  very  young  lady,  in  a  gray  silk  dress, 
straw  hat,  and  blue  ribbons  entered  the  schoolroom. 

Ishmael  looked  up,  gave  one  glance  at  the  fair,  sweet  face, 
serious  blue  eyes,  and  soft  light  ringlets,  and  dropped  his  copy- 
books, came  down  from  his  seat  and  hurried  to  meet  the  visitor, 
exclaiming : 

"  Bee !    Oh,  dear,  dear  Bee,  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you ! " 

"  So  am  I  you,  Ishmael,"  said  Beatrice  Middleton,  frankly 
giving  her  hand  to  be  shaken. 

"  Bee !  oh,  I  be^  pardon !  Miss  Middleton  I  mean !  it  is  such 
a  happiness  to  me  to  see  you  again ! " 

"  So  it  is  to  me  to  see  you,  Ishmael,"  frankly  answered 
Beatrice. 

"  You  will  sit  down  and  rest.  Bee  ? — ^Miss  Middleton ! "  ex- 
claimed Ishmael,  running  to  bring  his  own  school  chair  for 
her  accomodation. 

"  I  will  sit  down,  Bee.  IlTone  of  my  old  schoolmates  call  me 
anything  else,  Ishmael,  and  I  should  hardly  know  my  little 
self  by  any  other  name,"  said  Bee,  taking  the  offered  seat. 

"  I  thank  you  very  much  for  letting  me  call  you  so !  It  really 
•went  against  all  old  feelings  of  friendship  to  call  you  other- 
wise." 

"  Why  certainly  it  did." 

"I  hope  your  father  and  all  the  family  are  well?" 

*'A11  except  mamma,  who,  you  know,  is  very  delicate." 

*'  Yes,  I  know.    They  are  all  down  here,  of  course  ? " 

"  No ;  no  one  but  myself  and  one  man-  and  maid-servant." 

"Indeed!" 

*'  Yes ;  I  came  down  to  see  to  the  last  preparations,  so  as  to 
tave  everything  in  order  and  comfortable  for  mamma  when 
she  comes." 

"  Still  •  mamma's  right-hand  woman,'  Bee !  " 

"  Well,  y-es ;  I  must  be  so.  You  know  her  health  is  very  un- 
certain, and  there  are  so  many  children — two  more  since  you 
left  us,  Ishmael!  And  they  are  all  such  a  responsibility!  And 
as  mamma  is  so  delicate  and  I  am  the  eldest  daughter,  I  must 
take  much  of  the  care  of  them  all  upon  myself,"  replied  the 
girl-woman  very  gravely. 


OlfWAED,  391 

"Yes,  I  suppose  so;  and  yet "     Isliinael  hesitated  and 

Bee  took  up  the  discourse: 

— "  I  know  what  you  are  thinking  of,  Ishmael !  That  some 
other  than  myself  ought  to  have  been  found  to  come  down  to 
this  uninhabited  house  to  make  the  final  preparations  for  the 
reception  of  the  family ;  but  really  now,  Ishmael,  when  you  come 
to  think  of  it,  who  could  have  been  found  so  competent  as  my- 
self for  this  duty?  To  be  sure,  you  know,  we  sent  an  uphol- 
sterer down  with  the  new  furniture,  ana  with  particular  in- 
structions as  to  its  arrangement:  every  carpet,  set  of  curtains, 
and  suit  of  furniture  marked  with  the  name  of  the  room  for 
which  it  was  destined.  But  then,  you  know,  there  are  a  hun- 
dred other  things  to  be  done,  after  the  upholsterer  has  quitted 
the  house,  that  none  but  a  woman  and  a  member  of  the  family 
would  know  how  to  do — cut  glass  and  china  and  cutlery  to  be 
taken  out  of  their  cases  and  arranged  in  sideboards  and  cup- 
boards; and  bed  and  table  linen  to  be  unpacked  and  put  into 
drawers  and  closets;  and  the  children's  beds  to  be  aired  and 
made  up;  and  mamma's  own  chamber  and  nursery  made  ready 
for  her;  and,  last  of  all,  for  the  evening  that  they  are  expected 
to  arrive,  a  nice  delicate  supper  got.  Now,  who  was  there  to 
attend  to  all  this  but  me?"  questioned  Beatrice,  looking 
gravely  into  Ishmael's  face.  And  as  she  waited  for  an  answer, 
Ishmael  replied: 

"  Why — failing  your  mamma,  your  papa  might  have  done  it, 
without  any  derogation  from  his  manly  dignity.  When  Gen- 
eral Washington  was  in  Philadelphia,  during  his  first  Presi- 
dential term,  with  all  the  cares  of  the  young  nation  upon  his 
shoulders,  he  superintended  the  fitting  up  of  his  town  house 
for  the  reception  of  Mrs.  Washington;  descending  even  to  the 
details  of  hanging  curtains  and  setting  up  mangles ! " 

Beatrice  laughed,  as  she  said: 

"  Law,  Ishmael !  haven't  you  got  over  your  habit  of  quoting 
your  heroes  yet?  And  have  you  really  faith  enough  to  hope 
that  modern  men  will  come  up  to  their  standard?  Of  course, 
George  Washington  was  equal  to  eveiy  human  duty  from  the 
conquering  of  Cornwallis  to — the  crimping  of  a  cap-border,  if 
necessary!  for  he  was  a  miracle!  But  my  papa,  God  bless  him, 
though  wise  and  good,  is  but  a  man,  and  woiild  no  more  know 
how  to  perform  a  woman's  duties  than  I  should  how  to  do  a 
man's !  What  should  he  know  of  china-closets  and  linen  chests? 
Why,  Ishmael,  he  doesn't  know  fi'penny  bit  cotton  from  five 


392  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE    DEPTHS. 

shilling  linen,  and  -would  have  been  as  apt  as  not  to  IiavQ 
ordered  the  servants'  sheets  on  the  children's  beds  and  vice 
versa;  and  for  mamma's  supper  he  would  have  been  as  likely 
to  have  fried  pork  as  the  broiled  spring  chickens  that  I  shall 
provide!  ISTo,  Ishmael;  gentlemen  may  be  great  masters  in 
Latin  and  Greek ;  but  they  are  dunces  in  housekeeping  matters." 

"  As  far  as  your  experience  goes,  Bee." 

"  Of  course,  as  far  as  my  experience  goes." 

"  When  did  you  reach  Rushy  Shore,  Bee  ? " 

"Last  night  about  seven  o'clock.  Matty  came  ■with  me  in 
the  carriage,  and  Jason  drove  us.  "We  spent  all  day  in  unpack- 
ing and  arranging  the  things  that  had  been  sent  down  on  the 
*  Canvas  Back '  a  week  or  two  ago.  And  this  afternoon  X 
thought  I  would  walk  over  here  and  see  what  sort  of  a  school 
you  had.  Papa  read  your  letter  to  us,  and  we  were  all  inter- 
ested in  your  success  here." 

"  Thank  you,  dear  Bee ;  I  know  that  you  are  all  among  my 
very  best  friends;  and  some  of  these  days.  Bee,  I  hope,  I  trust, 
to  do  credit  to  your  friendship." 

"  That  you  will,  Ishmael !  What  do  you  think  my  papa  told 
my  uncle  Merlin  ? — that  '  that  young  man  (meaning  you)  was 
destined  to  make  his  mark  on  this  century.' " 

A  deep  blush  of  mingled  pleasure,  bashfulness,  and  aspira- 
tion mantled  Ishmael's  delicate  face.  He  bowed  with  sweet, 
grave  courtesy,  and  changed  the  subject  of  conversation  by 
saying : 

"  I  hope  Judge  Merlin  and  his  daughter  are  quite  well  ? " 

"  Quite.  They  are  still  at  Annapolis.  Papa  visited  them 
there  for  a  few  days  last  week.  The  judge  is  stopping  at  the 
Stars  and  Stripes  hotel,  and  Claudia  is  a  parlor  boarder  at  a 
celebrated  French  school  in  the  vicinity.  Claudia  will  not 
'  come  out  '  until  next  winter,  when  her  father  goes  to  Wash- 
ington. For  next  December  Claudia  will  be  eighteen  years  of 
age,  and  will  enter  upon  her  mother's  large  property,  accord- 
ing to  the  terms  of  the  marriage  settlement  and  the  mother's 
will.  I  suppose  she  will  be  the  richest  heiress  in  America,  for 
the  property  is  estimated  at  more  than  a  million!  Ah!  it  is 
fine  to  be  Claudia  Merlin — is  it  not,  Ishmael  ?  " 

"  Very,"  answered  the  young  man,  scarcely  conscious  amid 
the  whirl  of  his  emotions   what  he  was  saying. 

"  And  what  a  sensation  her  entree  into  society  will  make !  I 
should  like  to  be  in  Washington  next  winter  when  she  cornea 


ONWARD.  393 

out.     Ah,  but  after  all — what  a  target  for  fortune-hunters  she 
will  be,  to  be  sure ! ''  sighed  Bee. 

"  She  is  beautiful  and  accomplished,  and  altogether  lovely- 
enough  to  be  sought  for  herself  alone !  "  exclaimed  Ishmael,  in 
the  low  and  faltering  tones  of  deep  feeling. 

"  Ah,  yes,  if  she  were  poor ;  but  who  on  earth  could 
see  whether  the  heiress  of  a  million  were  pretty  or  plain,  good 
or  bad,  witty  or  stupid  ? " 

"  So  young  and  so  cynical !  "  said  Ishmael  sadly. 

"  Ah,  Ishmael,  whoever  reads  and  observes  must  feel  and  re- 
flect; and  whoever  feels  and  reflects  must  soon  lose  the  simple 
faith  of  childhood.  We  shall  see !  "  said  Bee,  rising  and  drawing 
her  gray  silk  scarf  around  her  shoulders. 

"  You  -jre  not  going  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  7  have  much  yet  to  do." 

"  Can  I  not  help  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no ;  there  is  nothing  that  I  have  to  do  that  a  classical 
and  mathematical  scholar  and  nursling  lawyer  could  under- 
stand." 

"  Then,  at  least,  allow  me  to  see  you  safely  home.  The 
nursling-lawyer  can  do  that,  I  suppose?  If  you  will  be  pleased 
to  sit  down  until  I  hear  this  young  hopeful  say  his  lesson,  I 
will  close  up  the  schoolroom  and  be  at  your  service." 

"  Thank  you  very  much ;  but  I  have  to  call  at  Brown's,  the 
overseer's,  and  I  would  much  rather  you  would  not  trouble 
yourself,  Ishmael.  Good-by.  When  we  all  get  settled  up  at 
the  house,  which  must  be  by  next  Saturday  night,  at  farthest, 
you  must  come  often  to  see  us.  It  was  to  say  this  that  I  came 
here." 

"  Thank  you,  dearest  Bee !  I  shall  esteem  it  a  great  privi- 
lege to  come." 

"Prove  it,"  laughed  Bee,  as  she  waved  adieu,  and  tripped 
out  of  the  schoolroom. 

Ishmael  called  up  his  pupil  for  recitation. 

The  little  savage  could  not  say  his  lesson,  and  began  to  weep 
and  rub  his  eyes  with  the  sleeve  of  his  jacket. 

"You  mought  let  me  off  this  once,  anyways,"  he  sobbed. 

"But  why  should  I?"  inquired  Ishmael. 

"  A-cause  of  the  pretty  lady  a-coming." 

Ishmael  laughed,  asd  for  a  moment  entertained  the  thought 
of  admitting  this  plea  and  letting  the  pleader  go.  But  Ishmael 
was  really  too  conscientious  to  suffer  himself  to  be  lured  aside 


B94  ishmael;  oe,  ht  the  depths. 

from  the  strict  line  of  duty  by  any  passing  fancy  or  caprice; 
so  he  answered : 

"  Your  plea  is  an  ingenious  one,  Eddy ;  and  since  you  have 
wit  enough  to  make  it,  you  must  have  sense  enough  to  learn 
your  lesson.  Come,  now,  let  us  sit  down  and  put  our  heads 
together,  and  try  again,  and  see  what  we  can  do." 

And  with  the  kindness  for  which  he  was  ever  noted,  the  young 
master  sat  down  beside  his  stupid  pupil  and  patiently  went 
over  and  over  the  lesson  with  him,  until  he  had  succeeded  in 
getting  it  into  Eddy's  thick  head. 

"  There,  now !  now  you  know  the  difference  between  a  common 
norm  and  a  proper  one !  are  you  not  glad  ? "  asked  Ishmael, 
smiling. 

"Yes;  but  they'll  all  be  done  supper,  and  the  hominy  '11 
be  cold !  "  said  the  boy  sulkily. 

"  Oh,  no,  it  will  not.  I  know  all  about  the  boiling  of  hominy. 
They'll  keep  the  pot  hanging  over  the  fire  until  bed-time,  so 
you  can  have  yours  hot  as  soon  as  you  get  home.  Off  with  you, 
now !  "  laughed  Ishmael. 

His  hopeful  pupil  lost  no  time  in  obeying  the  order,  but  set 
off  on  a  run. 

Ishmael  arranged  his  books,  closed  up  his  schoolroom,  and 
started  to  walk  home. 

There  he  delighted  Hannah  with  the  news  that  her  former 
friend  and  patron,  Mrs.  Middleton,  was  soon  expected  at  Rushy 
Shore.  And  he  interested  both  Reuben  and  Hannah  with  the 
description  of  beautiful  Bee's  visit  to  the  school. 

"I  wonder  why  he  couldn't  have  fallen  in  love  with  her?" 
thought  Hannah. 

CHAPTER  XUX. 

STILL  ONWARD. 

His,  all  the  mighty  movements 

That  urge  the  liero's  breast, 
The  longings  and  the  lovings, 

The  spirit's  glad  unrest. 
That  scorns  excuse  to  tender, 

Or  fortune's  favor  ask, 
That  never  will  surrender 

Whatever  be  the  taskl 

—M.  F.  Tupper. 

Beatrice  did  not  come  again  to  the  schoolroom  to  see  Ish- 
maeL     The  memory  of  old  school-day  friendship,  as  weU  aa 


8TILL    ONWARD.  395 

the  prompting  of  hospitality  and  benevolence,  had  brought  her 
there  on  her  first  visit.  She  had  not  thought  of  the  lapse  of 
time,  or  the  change  that  two  years  must  have  made  in  him  as 
well  as  in  herself,  and  so,  where  she  expected  to  find  a  mere 
youth,  she  found  a  young  man;  and  maiden  delicacy  restrained 
her  from  repeating  her  visit. 

On  Thursday  morning,  however,  as  Ishmael  was  opening  his 
schoolroom  he  heard  a  brisk  step  approaching,  and  Mr.  Mid- 
dleton  was  at  his  side.  Their  hands  flew  into  each  other  and 
shook  mutually  before  either  spoke.  Then,  with  beaming  eyes 
and  hearty  tones,  both  exclaimed  at  once : 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you ! " 

"  Of  course  you  arrived  last  night !  I  hope  you  had  a  pleas- 
ant journey,  and  that  Mrs.  Middleton  has  recovered  her  fa- 
tigue," said  Ishmael,  placing  a  chair  for  his  visitor. 

"A  very  pleasant  journey.  The  day  was  delightfully  cool, 
and  even  my  wife  did  not  suffer  from  fatigue.  She  is  quite 
-well  this  morning,  and  quite  delighted  with  her  nev/  home. 
But,  see  here,  Ishmael,  how  you  have  changed !  You  are  taller 
than  I  am !    You  must  be  near  six  feet  in  height — are  you  not  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  so,"  smiled  Ishmael. 

"  And  your  hair  is  so  much  darker.  Altogether,  you  are  so 
much  improved." 

"  There  was   room  for  it." 

"  There  always  is,  my  boy.  Well,  I  did  not  come  here  to  pay 
compliments,  my  young  friend.  I  came  to  tell  you  that,  thanks 
to  my  little  Bee's  activity,  we  are  all  comfortably  settled  at 
home  now;  and  we  should  be  happy  if  you  would  come  on  Fri- 
day evening  and  spend  with  us  Saturday  and  Sunday,  your 
weekly  holidays." 

"I  thank  you,  sir;  I  thank  you  very  much.     I  should  ex-, 
■tremely  like  to  come,  but " 

"Now,  Ishmael,  hush!  I  do  not  intend  to  take  a  denial. 
When  I  give  an  invitation  I  am  very  much  in  earnest  about 
it;  and  to  show  you  how  much  I  am  in  earnest  about  this,  I 
will  tell  you  that  I  reflected  that  this  was  Thursday,  and  that 
if  I  asked  you  to-day  you  could  tell  your  friends  when  you  get 
home  this  evening,  and  come  to-morrow  morning  prepared  to 
remain  over  till  Monday.  Otherwise  if  I  had  not  invited  you 
till  to-morrow  morning,  you  would  have  had  to  walk  all  the  way 
back  home  to-morrow  evening  to  tell  your  friends  before  coming 
to  see  us.    So  you  see  how  much  I  wished  to  have  you  come 


396      ishmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

Ishmael,  and  how  I  studied  ways  and  means.  Mrs.  Middleton 
and  all  your  old  schoolmates  are  equally  anxious  to  see  you, 
so  say  no  more  about  it,  but  come ! " 

"  Indeed,  I  earnestly  thank  you,  Mr.  Middleton,  and  I  was 
not  about  to  decline  your  kind  invitation  in  toto,  but  only  to 
say  that  I  am  occupied  with  duties  that  I  cannot  neglect  on 
Eriday  evenings  and  Saturday  mornings;  but  on  Saturday 
evening  I  shall  be  very  happy  to  come  over  and  spend  Sunday." 

"  Very  well,  then,  Ishmael ;  so  be  it ;  I  accept  so  much  of  your 
pleasant  company,  since  no  more  of  it  is  to  be  had.  By  the 
way,  Ishmael ! " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  That  was  a  gallant  feat  and  a  narrow  escape  of  yours  as 
it  was  described  to  me  by  my  neice  Claudia.  Nothing  less  than 
the  preservation  of  her  life  could  have  justified  you  in  such  a 
desperate  act." 

"  I  am  grateful  to  Miss  Merlin  for  remembering  it,  sir." 

"  As  if  she  could  ever  forget  it !  Good  Heaven !  Well,  Ish- 
mael, I  see  that  your  pupils  are  assembling  fast.  I  will  not  de- 
tain you  from  your  duties  longer.  Good-morning;  and  remem- 
ber that  we  shall  expect  you  on  Saturday  evening." 

"Good-morning,  sir!  I  will  remember;  pray  give  my  re- 
spects to  Mrs.  Middleton  and  all  the  family." 

"  Certainly,"  said  Mr.  Middleton,  as  he  walked  away. 

Ishmael  re-entered  the  schoolroom,  rang  the  bell  to  call  the 
piipils  in,  and  commenced  the  duties  of  the  day. 

On  Saturday  afternoon,  all  his  weekly  labors  being  scru- 
pulously finished,  Ishmael  walked  over  to  Eushy  Shore  Beacon, 
as  Mr.  Middleton's  house  was  called. 

It  was  a  very  large  old  edifice  of  white  stone,  and  stood  upon 
the  extreme  point  of  a  headland  running  out  into  the  river. 
There  were  many  trees  behind  it,  landward;  but  none  before 
it,  seaward;  so  that  really  the  tall  white  house,  with  its  many 
.windows,  might  well  serve  as  a  beacon  to  passing  vessels. 

Around  the  headland  vipon  which  it  was  situated  the  waters 
swept  with  a  mighty  impetus  and  a  deafening  roar  that  gave 
the  place  its  descriptive  name  of  Rushy  Shore.  As  the  air  and 
water  here  were  mildly  salt,  the  situation  was  deemed  very 
healthy  and  well  suited  to  such  delicate  lungs  as  required  a 
stimulating  atmosphere,  and  yet  could  not  bear  the  full  strength 
of  the  sea  breezes.  As  such  the  place  had  been  selected  by  Mr, 
Middleton  for  the  residence  of  his  invalid  wife. 


STILL    ONWARD.  o97 

When  Ishmael  approached  the  house  he  found  the  family 
all  assembled  in  the  long  front  porch  to  enjoy  the  fine  view. 

Walter  Middleton,  who  was  the  first  to  spy  Ishmael's  ap- 
proach, ran  down  the  steps  and  out  to  meet  him,  exclaiming,  as 
he  caught  and  shook  his  hand : 

"  How  are  you,  old  boy,  how  are  you  ?  Looking  in  high 
health  and  handsomeness,  at  any  rate!  I  should  have  come 
down  to  school  to  see  you,  Ishmael,  only,  on  the  very  morning 
after  our  arrival,  I  had  to  mount  my  horse  and  ride  down  to 
Baymouth  to  attend  to  some  business  for  my  father,  and  I  did 
not  get  back  until  late  last  night.  Come,  hurry  on  to  the 
house!    My  mother  is  anxious  to  see  her  old  favorite." 

And  so,  overpowering  Ishmael  with  the  cordiality  of  his 
greeting,  Walter  drew  his  friend's  arm  within  his  own,  and 
took  him  upon  the  poTch  in  the  midst  of  the  family  group, 
that  immediately  surrounded  and  warmly  welcomed  him. 

"  How  handsome  and  manly  you  have  grown,  my  dear,"  said 
Mrs.   Middleton,  with  almost  motherly  pride  in  her  favorite. 

Ishmael  blushed  and  bowed  in  reply  to  this  direct  compliment. 
And  soon  he  was  seated  among  them,  chatting  pleasantly. 

This  was  but  the  first  of  many  delightful  visits  to  Eushy 
Shore  enjoyed  by  Ishmael.  Mr.  Middleton  liked  to  have  him. 
there,  and  often  pressed  him  to  come.  And  Ishmael,  who  very 
well  knew  the  difference  between  invitations  given  from  mere 
politeness  and  those  prompted  by  a  sincere  desire  for  his  com- 
pany, frequently  accepted  them. 

One  day  Mr.  Middleton,  who  took  a  deep  interest  in  the  strug- 
gles of  Ishmael,  said  to  him: 

"  You  should  enter  some  law  school,  my  young  friend." 

"  I  intend  to  do  so,  sir,  as  soon  as  I  have  accomplished  two 
things." 

"  And  what  are  they  ?  " 

"  Saved  money  enough  to  defray  my  expenses  and  found  a 
substitute  for  myself  as  master  of  this  little  school." 

"  Oh,  bother  the  school !  you  must  not  always  be  sacrificing 
yourself  to  the  public  welfare,  Ishmael,"  laughed  Mr.  Middle- 
ton,  who  sometimes  permitted  himself  to  use  rough  words. 

"But  to  duty,  sir?" 

"  Oh,  if  you  make  it  a  question  of  duty,  I  have  no  more  to 
say,"  was  the  concluding  remark  of  Ishmael's  friend. 

Thus,  in  diligent  labor  and  intellectual  intercourse,  the 
young  man  passed  the  summer  months. 


398      ishmael;  oe,  in  the  depths. 

One  bright  hope  burned  constantly  before  Islimael's  mental 
vision — of  seeing  Claudia;  but,  ah!  this  hope  was  destined  to 
be  deferred  from  week  to  week,  and  finally  disappointed. 

Judge  Merlin  did  not  come  to  Tanglewood  as  usual  this 
summer.  He  took  his  daughter  to  the  seaside  instead,  where 
they  lived  quietly  at  a  private  boarding  house,  because  it  was 
not  intended  that  !Miss  Merlin  should  enter  society  until  the 
coming  winter  at  Washington. 

To  Ishmael  this  was  a  bitter  disappointment,  but  a  bitter 
tonic,  too,  since  it  served  to  give  strength  to  his  mind. 

Late  in  September  his  friend  Walter  Middleton,  who  was  a 
medical  student,  left  them  to  attend  the  autumn  and  winter 
course  of  lectures  in  Baltimore.  Ishmael  felt  the  loss  of  his 
society  very  much;  but  as  usual  consoled  himself  by  hard  work 
through  all  the  autumn  months. 

He  heard  from  Judge  Merlin  and  his  daughter  through  their 
letters  to  the  Middletons.  They  were  again  in  Annapolis, 
where  Miss  Merlin  was  passing  her  last  term  at  the  finishing 
school,  but  they  were  to  go  to  Washington  at  the  meeting  of 
Congress  in  December. 

As  the  month  of  ISTovember  drew  to  a  close  Ishmael  began  to 
compute  the  labors,  progress,  and  profits  of  the  year.  He  found 
that  he  had  brought  his  school  into  fine  working  order;  he  had 
brought  his  pupils  on  well;  he  had  made  Eeuben  Gray  a  very 
good  reader,  penman,  arithmetician,  and  bookkeeper;  and  lastly, 
he  had  advanced  himself  very  far  in  his  chosen  professional 
studies.  But  he  had  made  but  little  money,  and  saved  less  than 
a  hundred  dollars.  This  was  not  enough  to  support  him,  even 
by  the  severest  economy,  at  any  law  school.  Something  else, 
he  felt,  must  be  done  for  the  next  year,  by  which  more  money 
might  be  made.  So  after  reflecting  upon  the  subject  for  some 
time,  he  wrote  out  two  advertisements — one  for  a  teacher,  com- 
petent to  take  charge  of  a  small  country  school,  and  the  other 
for  a  situation  as  bookkeeper,  clerk,  or  amanuensis.  In  the 
course  of  a  week  the  first  advertisement  was  answered  by  a 
Methodist  preacher  living  in  the  same  neighborhood,  who  pro- 
posed to  augment  the  small  salary  he  received  for  preaching  on. 
Sundays,  by  teaching  a  day  school  all  the  week.  Ishmael  had 
an  interview  with  this  gentleman,  and  finding  him  all  that 
could  be  desired  in  a  clergyman  and  country  schnolmaster, 
willingly  engaged  to  relinquish  his  own  post  in  favor  of  the  new 
candidate  on  the  first  of  the  coming  year. 


STILL    O^^WAED.  399 

His  second  advertisement  was  not  yet  answered ;  but  Ishmael 
kept  it  on  and  anxiously  awaited  the  result. 

At  length  his  perseverance  was  crowned  with  a  success  greater 
than  ho  could  have  anticipated.  It  was  about  the  middle  of 
December,  a  few  days  before  the  breaking  up  of  his  school  for 
the  Christmas  holidays,  that  he  called  at  the  Shelton  post  office 
to  ask  if  there  were  any  letters  for  "  X.  Y.  Z.,"  those  being  the 
initials  he  had  signed  to  his  second  advertisement.  A  letter 
was  handed  him ;  at  last,  then,  it  had  come !  Without  scrutin- 
izing the  handwriting  or  the  superscription,  Ishmael  tore  it 
open  and  read: 

"Washington,  December  14. 
"Mr.  'X.  Y.  Z.' — I  have  seen  your  advertisement  in  the 
Intelligencer.  I  am  in  want  of  an  intelligent  and  well-educated 
young  man  to  act  as  my  confidential  secretary  and  occasional 
amanuensis.  If  you  will  write  to  me,  enclosing  testimonials 
and  references  as  to  your  character  and  competency,  and  stat- 
ing the  amount  of  salary  you  will  expect  to  receive,  I  hope  we 
may  come  to  satisfactory  arrangement. 

"Respectfully  yours, 

"Randolph  Merlin." 

It  was  from  Claudia's  father,  then !  It  was  a  stroke  of  fate, 
or  so  it  seemed  to  the  surprised  and  excited  mind  of  Ishmael. 

Trembling  with  joy,  he  retired  to  the  private  parlor  of  the 
quiet  little  village  inn  to  answer  the  letter,  so  that  it  might 
go  off  to  Washington  by  the  mail  that  started  that  afternoon. 
He  smiled  to  himself  as  he  wrote  that  Judge  Merlin  himself 
had  had  amjole  opportunity  of  personally  testing  the  character 
and  ability  of  the  advertiser,  but  that  if  further  testimony  were 
needed,  he  begged  to  refer  to  Mr.  James  Middleton,  of  Rushy 
Shore.  Finally,  he  left  the  question  of  the  amount  of  salary 
to  be  settled  by  the  judge  himself.  He  signed,  sealed,  and  di- 
rected this  letter,  and  hurried  to  the  post  office  to  post  it  before 
the  closing  of  the  mail. 

And  then  he  went  home  in  a  maze  of  delight. 

Three  anxious  days  passed,  and  then  Ishmael  received  his 
answer.  It  was  a  favorable  and  a  conclusive  one.  The  judge 
told  him  that  from  the  post  office  address  given  in  the  adver- 
tisement, as  well  as  from  other  circumstances,  he  had  supposed 
the  advertiser  to  be  Ishmael  himself,  but  could  not  be  sure  until 


400  ISIIilAEL ;    OE,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

he  had  received  his  letter,  when  he  was  glad  to  find  his  suppo- 
sition  correct,  as  he  should  much  rather  receive  into  his  family, 
in  a  confidential  capacity,  a  known  young  man  like  Mr.  Worth 
than  any  stranger,  however  well  recommended  the  latter  might 
be;  he  would  fix  the  salary  at  Ihree  hundred  dollars,  with  board 
and  lodging,  if  that  would  meet  the  young  gentleman's  views; 
if  the  terms  suited,  he  hoped  Mr.  Worth  would  lose  no  time  in 
joining  him  in  Washington,  as  he,  the  writer,  was  overwhelmed 
with  correspondence  that  was  still  accumulating. 

Ishmael  answered  this  second  letter  immediately,  saying  that 
he  would  be  in  Washington  on  the  following  Tuesday. 

After  posting  his  letter  he  walked  rapidly  homeward,  calling 
at  Eushy  Shore  on  his  way  to  inform  his  friends,  the  Middle- 
tons,  of  his  change  of  fortune.  As  Ishmael  was  not  egotistical 
enough  to  speak  of  h'xXiself  and  his  affairs  until  it  became  ab- 
solutely needful  for  him  to  do  so,  he  had  never  told  Mr.  Mid- 
dleton  of  his  ^-^lan  of  giving  up  the  school  to  the  Methodist 
minister  arid  seeking  another  sitviation  for  himself.  And  dur- 
i'-'.g  the  three  days  of  his  correspondence  with  Judge  Merlin 
he  had  not  even  seen  Mr.  Middleton,  whom  he  only  took  time 
to  visit  on  Saturday  evenings. 

Upon  this  afternoon  he  reached  Eushy  Shore  just  as  the 
family  were  sitting  down  to  dinner.  They  were  as  much  sur- 
prised as  pleased  to  see  him  at  such  an  unusual  time  as  the  mid- 
dle of  the  week.  Mr.  Middleton  got  up  to  shake  hands  with 
him;  Mrs.  Middleton  ordered  another  plate  brought;  Bee  saw 
that  room  was  made  for  another  chair;  and  so  Ishmael  was 
welcomed  by  acclamation,  and  seated  among  them  at  the  table. 

"  And  now,  young  gentleman,  tell  us  what  it  all  means.  For 
glad  as  we  are  to  see  you,  and  glad  as  you  are  to  see  us,  we  know 
very  well  that  you  did  not  take  time  to  come  here  in  the  middle 
of  the  week  merely  to  please  yourself  or  us ;  pleasure  not  being 
your  first  object  in  life,  Ishmael,"  said  Mr.  Middleton. 

"  I  regret  to  say,  sir,  that  I  came  to  tell  you,  I  am  going 
away  on  Monday  morning,"  replied  Ishmael  gravely,  for  at 
the  moment  he  felt  a  very  real  regret  at  the  thought  of  leaving 
such  good  and  true  friends. 

"  Going  away ! "  exclaimed  all  the  family  in  a  breath,  and  in 
consternation;  for  this  boy,  with  his  excellent  character  and 
charming  manners  had  always  deeply  endet  "ed  himself  to  all 
his  friends.     "  Going  away !  "  they  repeated. 

^  I  am  sorry  to  say  it,"  said  Ishmael. 


STILL    ONWARD.  401 

"  But  this  is  so  unexpected,  so  sudden ! "  said  Mrs.  Mid- 
dleton. 

"  What  the  grand  deuce  is  the  matter  ?  Have  you  enlisted  for 
a  soldier,  engaged  as  a  sailor,  been  seized  with  the  gold  fever? " 

"  Neither,  sir ;  I  will  explain,"  said  Ishmael.  And  forthwith 
he  told  all  his  plans  and  prospects,  in  the  fewest  possible  words. 

"  And  so  you  are  going  to  Washington,  to  be  Randolph  Mer- 
lin's clerk!  Well,  Ishmael,  as  he  is  a  thorough  lawyer,  though 
no  very  brilliant  barrister,  I  do  not  know  that  you  could  be  in 
a  better  school.  Heaven  prosper  you,  my  lad!  By  the  way, 
Ishmael,  just  before  you  came  in,  vre  were  all  talking  of  going 
to  Washington  ourselves." 

"  Indeed !  and  is  there  really  a  prospect  of  your  going  ? " 
inquired  Ishmael,  in  pleased  surprise. 

"  Well,  yes.  You  see  the  judge  wishes  a  chaperone  for  his 
daughter  this  winter,  and  has  invited  Mrs.  Middleton,  and  in 
fact  all  the  family,  to  come  and  spend  the  season  with  them 
in  Washington.  He  says  that  he  has  taken  the  old  Washington 
House,  which  is  large  enough  to  accommodate  our  united  fami- 
lies, and  ten  times  as  many." 

"  And  you  will  go  ?  "  inquired  Ishmael  anxiously. 

"  Well,  yes — I  think  so.  You  see,  this  place,  so  pre-eminently 
healthy  during  eight  months  of  the  year,  is  rather  too  much 
exposed  and  too  bleak  in  the  depth  of  winter  to  suit  my  wife. 
She  begins  to  cough  already.  And  as  Claudia  really  does 
need  a  matronly  friend  near  her,  and  as  the  judge  is  very 
anxious  for  us  to  come,  I  think  all  interests  will  be  best  served 
by  our  going." 

"  I  hope  you  will  go  very  soon,"  said  Ishmael. 

"  In  a  week  or  ten  days,"  replied  Mr.  Middleton. 

Ishmael  soon  after  arose  and  took  his  leave,  for  he  had  a 
long  walk  before  him,  and  a  momentous  interview  with  Hannah 
to  brave  at  the  end  of  it. 

After  tea  that  evening  Ishmael  broke  the  news  to  Eeuben 
and  Hannah.  Both  were  considerably  startled  and  bewildered, 
for  they,  no  more  than  the  Middletons,  had  received  any  pre- 
vious hint  of  the  young  man's  intentions.  And  now  they  really 
did  not  know  whether  to  congratulate  Ishmael  on  going  to 
seek  his  fortune  or  to  condole  with  him  for  leaving  home.  Eeu- 
ben heartily  shook  hands  with  Ishmael  and  said  how  sorry  he 
should  be  to  part  with  him,  but  how  glad  he  was  that  the  young 
man  was  going  to  do  something  handsome  for  himself. 


402  ISHIVIAEL  ;    OR,  IT«-   THE   DEPTHS. 

Hannah  cried  heartily,  but  for  the  life  of  her,  could  not  have 
told  whether  it  was  for  joy  or  sorrow.  To  her  apprehension, 
to  go  to  Washington  and  be  Judge  Merlin's  clerk  seemed  to  be 
one  of  the  greatest  honors  that  any  young  man  could  attain ;  so 
she  was  perfectly  delighted  with  that  part  of  the  affair.  But, 
on  the  other  hand,  Ishmael  had  been  to  her  like  the  most  affec- 
tionate and  dearest  of  sons,  and  to  part  with  him  seemed  more 
than  she  could  bear;  so  she  wept  vehemently  and  clung  to  her 
boy. 

Reuben  sought  to  console  her. 

"Never  mind,  Hannah,  woman,  never  mind.  It  is  the  law 
of  nature  that  the  young  bird  must  leave  his  nest  and  the 
young  man  his  home.  But  never  you  mind!  Washing-town- 
city  aint  out'n  the  world,  and  any  time  as  you  want  to  see  your 
boy  very  bad,  I'll  just  put  Dobbin  to  the  wagon  and  cart  you 
and  the  young  uns  up  there  for  a  day  or  two.  Law,  Hannah, 
m.y  dear,  you  never  should  shed  a  tear  if  I  could  help  it.  'Cause 
I  feel  kind  o'  guilty  when  you  cry,  Hannah,  as  if  I  ought  to 
help  it  somehow ! "  said  the  good  fellow. 

"  As  if  you  could,  Reuben !  But  it  is  I  myself  wh©  do  wrong 
to  cry  for  anything  when  I  am  blessed  with  the  love  of  such  Si 
heart  as  yours,  Reuben!  There,  I  will  not  cry  any  more.  Of 
course,  Ishmael  must  go  to  the  city  and  make  his  fortune,  and 
I  ought  to  be  glad,  and  I  am  glad,  only  I  am  sich  a  fool.  Ish- 
mael, my  dear,  this  is  Wednesday  night,  and  you  say  you  are 
going  o'  Monday  morning;  so  there  aint  no  time  to  make  yoa 
no  new  shirts  and  things  before  you  go,  but  I'll  make  a  lot  of 
'em,  my  boy,  and  send  'em  up  to  you,"  said  Hannah,  wiping 
her  eyes. 

Ishmael  opened  his  mouth  to  reply;  but  Reuben  was  before 
him  with: 

"  So  do,  Hannah,  my  dear ;  that  will  be  one  of  the  best  ways 
of  comforting  yourself,  making  up  things  for  the  lad ;  and  you 
shan't  want  for  money,  for  the  fine  linen  nyther,  Hannah,  my 
dear!  And  when  you  have  got  them  all  done,  you  and  I  can 
take  them  up  to  him  when  we  go  to  see  him !  So  think  of  that, 
and  you  won't  be  fretting  after  him.  And  now,  childun,  it  is 
bedtime ! " 

On  Friday  evening  Ishmael,  in  breaking  up  his  school  for 
the  Chris^tmas  holidays,  also  took  a  final  leave  of  his  pupils. 
The  young  master  had  so  endeared  himself  to  his  rough  pupils 
that  they  grieved  sincerely  at  the  separation.    The  girls  wept. 


Claudia's  city  home.  403 

and  even  rude  boys  sobbed.  Our  stupid  little  friend,  Eddy, 
who  could  not  learn  grammar,  had  learned  to  love  his  kind 
young  teacher,  and  at  the  prospect  of  parting  with  him  and 
having  the  minister  for  a  master  roared  aloud,  saying: 

"Master  Worth  have  allers  been  good  to  us,  so  he  have; 
but  the  minister — he'll  lick  us,  ever  so  much !  " 

Ishmael  distributed  such  parting  gifts  as  his  slender  purse 
v/ould  afford,  and  so  dismissed  his  pujiils. 

On  Sunday  evening  he  took  leave  of  his  friends,  the  Middle- 
tons,  who  promised  to  join  liim  in  Washington  in  the  course 
of  a  week. 

And  on  Monday  morning  he  took  leave  of  Hannah  and  Reu- 
ben, and  walked  to  Baymouth  to  meet  the  Washington  steam- 
bo'at. 


CHAPTER  L. 

CLAUDIA'S  CITY  HOME. 

How  beautiful  the  mansion's  tlironed 

Behind  its  ehii  tree's  screen, 
With  simple  attic  cornice  crofrned 

All  firiceful  and  serene. 

— Anon. 

Just  north  of  the  Capitol  park,  upon  a  gentle  eminence, 
within  its  own  well-shaded  and  well-cultivated  grounds,  stood 
a  fine,  old,  family  mansion  that  had  once  been  the  temporary 
residence  of  George  Washington, 

The  house  was  very  large,  with  many  spacious  rooms  and 
broad  passages  within,  and  many  garden  walks  and  trellised 
arbors  around  it. 

In  front  were  so  many  evergreen  trees  and  in  the  rear  was 
so  fine  a  conservatory  of  blooming  flowers,  that  even  in  the 
depth  of  winter  it  seemed  like  summer  there. 

The  house  was  so  secluded  within  its  many  thick  trees  and 
high  garden  walls  that  the  noise  of  the  city  never  reached  its 
inmates,  though  they  were  within  five  minutes'  walk  of  the 
Capitol  and  ten  minutes'  drive  of  the  President's  mansion. 

Judge  Merlin  had  been  very  fortunate  in  securing  for  the 
season  this  delightful  home,  where  he  could  be  within  easy 
reach  of  his  official  business  and  at  the  same  time  enjoy  the 
quiet  so  necessary  to  his  temperament. 


404  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE    DEPTHS. 

That  winter  he  had  been  appointed  one  of  the  judges  of  the 
Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States,  and  it  was  very  desirable 
to  have  so  pleasant  a  dwelling  place  within  such  easy  reach  of 
the  Capitol,  where  the  court  was  held.  At  the  head  of  this  house 
his  young  daughter  had  been  placed  as  its  mistress.  She  had 
not  yet  appeared  anywhere  in  public.  She  was  reserving  her- 
self for  two  events :  the  arrival  of  her  chaperone  and  the  first 
evening  reception  of  the  President.  Her  presence  in  the  city 
was  not  even  certainly  known  beyond  her  own  domestic  circle; 
though  a  vague  rumor,  started  no  one  knew  by  whom,  was 
afloat,  to  the  effect  that  Miss  Merlin,  the  young  Maryland 
heiress  and  beauty,  was  expected  to  come  out  in  Washington 
during  the  current  season. 

Meanwhile  she  remained  in  seclusion  in  her  father's  house. 

It  was  to  this  delightful  town  house,  so  like  the  country  in 
its  isolation,  that  Ishmael  Worth  was  invited. 

It  was  just  at  sunrise  on  Tuesday  morning  that  the  old 
steamer  "  Columbia,"  having  Ishmael  on  board,  landed  at  the 
Seventh  Street  wharf,  and  the  young  man,  destined  some  future 
day  to  fill  a  high  official  position  in  the  Federal  government, 
took  his  humble  carpetbag  in  his  hand  and  entered  the  Federal 
city. 

Ah!  many  thousands  had  entered  the  National  capital  before 
him,  and  many  more  thousands  would  enter  it  after  him,  only 
to  complain  of  it,  to  carp  over  it,  to  laugh  at  it,  for  its  "  mag- 
nificent distances,"  its  unfinished  buildings,  its  muddy  streets, 
and  its  mean  dwellings. 

But  Ishmael  entered  within  its  boundaries  with  feelings  of 
reverence  and  affection.  It  was  the  City  of  Washington,  the 
sacred  heart  of  the  nation. 

He  had  heard  it  called  by  shallow-brained  and  short-sighted 
people  a  sublime  failure!  It  was  a  sublime  idea,  indeed,  he 
thought,  but  no  failure!  Failure?  Why,  what  did  those  who 
called  it  so  expect?  Did  they  expect  that  the  great  capital  of 
the  great  Republic  should  spring  into  full-grown  existence  as 
quickly  as  a  hamlet  around  a  railway  station,  or  village  at  a 
steamboat  landing?  Great  ideas  require  a  long  time  for  their 
complete  embodiment.  And  those  who  sneered  at  Washington 
were  as  little  capable  of  foreseeing  its  future  as  the  idlers 
about  the  steamboat  wharf  were  of  foretelling  the  fortunes  of 
the  modest-looking  youth,  in  coxmtry  clothes,  who  stood  there 
gazing  thoughtfully  upon  the  city. 


Claudia's  city  iio:\rE.  405 

"  Can  3'ou  tell  me  the  nearest  way  to  Pennsylvania  Avenue  ?  " 
at  length  he  asked  of  a  bystander. 

"  Just  set  your  face  to  the  north  and  follow  your  nose  for 
about  a  mile,  and  you'll  fetch  up  to  the  broadest  street  as  ever 
you  see;  and  that  will  be  it,"  was  the  answer. 

With  this  simple  direction  Ishmael  went  on  until  he  came  to 
the  avenue,  which  he  recognized  at  once  from  the  description. 

The  Capitol,  throned  in  majestic  grandeur  upon  the  top  of 
its  wooded  hill  at  the  eastern  extremity  of  the  Avenue,  and 
gleaming  white  in  the  rays  of  the  morning  sun,  seeming  to 
preside  over  the  whole  scene,  next  attracted  Ishmael's  admira- 
tion. As  his  way  lay  towards  it,  he  had  ample  time  to  contem- 
plate its  imposing  magnificence  and  beauty. 

As  he  drew  near  it,  however,  he  began  to  throw  his  eyes 
around  the  surrounding  country  in  search  of  Judge  Mei'lin's 
house.  He  soon  identified  it — a  large  old  family  mansion, 
standing  in  a  thick  grove  of  trees  on  a  hill  just  north  of  the 
Capitol  grounds.  He  turned  to  the  left,  ascended  the  hill,  and 
soon  found  himself  at  the  iron  gate  leading  to  the  grounds. 

Here  his  old  acquaintance,  Sam,  being  on  duty  as  porter,  ad- 
mitted him,  and,  taking  him  by  a  winding  gravel  v/alk  that 
turned  and  twisted  among  groves  and  parterres,  led  him  up 
to  the  house  and  delivered  him  into  the  charge  of  a  black  foot- 
man, who  was  at  that  early  hour  engaged  in  opening  the  doors 
and  windows. 

He  was  the  same  Jim  who  used  to  wait  on  the  table  at  Tan- 
glewood. 

"Good-morning,  ]\Ir.  Ishmael,  sir,"  he  said,  advancing  in  a 
friendly  and  respectful  manner,  to  receive  the  new  arrival. 

"The  judge  expected  me  this  morning,  Jim?"  inquired  Ish- 
mael, when  he  had  returned  the  greeting  of  the  man. 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir ;  and  ordered  your  room  got  ready  for  you. 
The  family  aint  down  yet,  sir';  but  I  can  show  you  your  room," 
said  Jim,  taking  Ishmael's  carpetbag  from  him,  and  leading 
the  wa;  upstairs. 

They  went  up  three  flights  of  stairs,  to  a  small  front  room  in 
the  third  story,  with  one  window,  looking  west. 

Here  Jim  sat  clown  the  carpetbag,  saying : 

"  It's  rather  high  up,  sir ;  but  you  see  we  are  expecting  Mrs. 
Middleton  and  all  her  family,  and  of  course  the  best  spare 
rooms  has  to  be  given  up  to  the  ladies.  I  think  you  will  find 
everything  you  could  wish  for  at  hand,  sir ;  but  if  there  should 


406  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN    THE    DEPTHS. 

be  anything  else  wanted,  you  can  ring,  and  one  of  the  men 
servants  will  come  up."  And  with  this,  Jim  bowed  and  left 
the  room. 

Ishmael  looked  around  upon  his  new  domicile. 

It  was  a  very  plain  room  with  simple  maple  furniture, 
neatly  arranged;  a  brown  woolen  carpet  on  the  floor; 
white  dimity  curtains  at  the  window;  and  a  small  coal  fire  in 
the  grate.  Yet  it  was  much  better  than  Ishmael  had  been  ac- 
customed to  at  home,  and  besides,  the  elevated  position  of  the 
room,  and  the  outlook  from  the  only  window,  compensated  for 
all  deficiencies. 

Ishmael  walked  up  to  this  window,  put  aside  the  dainty  white 
curtain,  and  looked  forth:  the  whole  city  of  Washington, 
Georgetown,  the  winding  of  the  Potomac  and  Anacostia  rivers, 
Anacostia  Island,  and  the  undulating  hills  of  the  Virginia  and 
Maryland  shores  lay  spread  like  a  vast  panorama  before  him. 

As  the  thicket  was  a  necessity  to  Judge  Merlin's  nature,  so 
the  widely  extended  prospect  was  a  need  of  Ishmael's  spirit; 
his  eyes  must  travel  when  his  feet  could  not. 

Feeling  perfectly  satisfied  with  his  quarters,  Ishmael  at  last 
left  the  window  and  made  his  toilet,  preparatory  to  meeting  the 
judge  and — Claudia! 

"  Oh,  beating  heart,  be  still !  be  still ! "  he  said  to  himself,  as 
the  anticipation  of  that  latter  meeting,  with  all  its  disturbing 
influences,  sent  the  blood  rioting  through  his  veins. 

Without  being  the  very  least  dandyish,  Ishmael  was  still 
fastidiously  nice  in  his  personal  appointments;  purity  and  re- 
finement pervaded  his  presence. 

He  had  completed  his  toilet,  and  was  engaged  in  lightly 
brushing  some  lint  from  his  black  coat,  when  a  knock  at  his 
door  attracted  his  attention. 

It  was  Jim,  who  had  come  to  announce  breakfast  and  show 
him  the  way  to  the  morning  room. 

Down  the  three  flights  of  stairs  they  went  again,  and  across 
the  central  hall  to  a  front  room  on  the  left  that  looked  out  upon 
the  winter  garden  of  evergreen  trees.  Crimson  curtained  and 
crimson  carpeted,  with  a  bright  coal  fire  in  the  polished  steel 
grate,  and  a  glittering  silver  service  on  the  white  draped  break- 
fast table,  this  room  had  a  very  inviting  aspect  on  this  frosty 
December  morning. 

The  judge  stood  with  his  back  to  the  fire,  and  a  damp  news- 
paper open  in  his  hand.    Claudia  was  nowhere  visible — a  hasty 


Claudia's  city  home.  407 

glance  around  the  room  assured  Ishmael  that  she  had  not  yet 
entered  it.  Ishmael's  movements  were  so  noiseless  that  his 
presence  was  not  observed  until  he  actually  went  up  to  the 
judge,  and,  bowing,  accosted  him  with  the  words : 

"  I  am  here  according  to  appointment,  Judge  Merlin ;  and 
hope  I  find  you  well." 

*'  Ah,  yes ;  good-morning !  how  do  you  do,  Ishmael  ?  "  said  the 
judge  laying  aside  his  paper  and  cordially  shaking  hands  with 
tb*^  youth.     "Punctual,  I  see.     Had  a  pleasant  journey?" 

•■^  Thank  you,  sir;  very  pleasant,"  returned  Ishmael. 

"Feel  like  setting  to  work  this  morning?  There  is  quite 
an  accumulation  of  correspondence  groaning  to  be  attended  to." 

"  I  am  ready  to  enter  upon  my  duties  whenever  you  please, 
sir." 

"All  right,"  said  the  judge,  touching  a  bell  that  presently 
summoned  Jim  to  his  presence. 

"  Let  us  have  breakfast  immediately.  Where  is  Miss  Merlin  ? 
Let  her  know  that  we  are  w^aiting  for  her." 

"  *  Miss  Merlin '  is  here,  papa,"  said  a  rich  voice  at  the  door. 

Ishmael's  heart  bounded  and  throbbed,  and  Claudia  entered 
the  breakfast  room. 

Such  a  picture  of  almost  Oriental  beauty,  luxury,  and  splen- 
dor as  she  looked!  She  wore  a  morning  robe  of  rich  crimson 
foulard  silk,  fastened  up  the  front  with  garnet  buttons,  each  a 
spark  of  fire.  The  dress  was  open  at  the  throat  and  wrists,  re- 
vealing glimpses  of  the  delicate  cambric  collar  and  cuffs  con- 
fined by  the  purest  pearl  studs.  Her  luxuriant  hair  was  car- 
ried away  from  her  snovpy  temples  and  drooped  in  long,  rich, 
purplish,  black  ringlets  from  the  back  of  her  stately  head.  But 
lier  full,  dark  eyes  and  oval  crimson  cheeks  and  lips  glowed 
with  a  fire  too  vivid  for  health  as  she  advanced  and  gave  her 
father  the  morning  kiss. 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  come,  my  dear !  I  have  been  waiting 
for  you !  "  said  the  judge. 

"You  shall  not  have  to  do  so  another  morning,  papa,"  she 
answered. 

"Here  is  Ishmael,  Claudia,"  said  her  father,  directing  her 
attention  to  the  youth,  who  had  delicately  withdrawn  into  the 
background;  but  who,  at  the  mention  of  his  own  name,  came 
forward  to  pay  his  respects  to  the  heiress. 

"I  am  glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Worth,"  she  said,  extending  her 
hand  to  him  as  he  bowed  before  her;  and  then  quickly  detect* 


408      ishmael;  or,  ix  the  depths. 

ing  a  passing  shade  of  pain  in  his  expressive  face,  she  added, 
smiling : 

"  You  know  we  must  begin  to  call  you  Mr.  Worth  some  time, 
and  there  can  be  no  better  time  than  this,  when  you  make  your 
first  appearance  in  the  city  and  commence  a  new  career  in  life." 

"  I  had  always  b  oped  to  be  '  Ishmael '  with  my  friends,"  he 
replied. 

" '  Times  change  and  we  change  with  them,'  said  one  of  the 
wisest  of  sages,"  smiled  Claudia. 

"  And  coffee  and  muffins  grow  oold  by  standing ;  which  is 
more  to  the  present  purpose,"  laughed  Judge  Merlin,  handing 
his  daughter  to  her  seat  at  the  head  of  the  table,  taking  his  own 
at  the  foot,  and  pointing  his  guest  to  one  at  the  side. 

When  all  were  seated,  Claudia  poured  out  the  coSee  and  the 
breakfast  commenced.  But  to  the  discredit  of  the  judge's  con- 
sistency, it  might  have  been  noticed  that,  after  he  had  helped 
his  companion  to  steak,  waffles,  and  other  edibles,  he  resumed 
his  newspaper;  and,  regardless  that  coffee  and  muffins  grew 
cold  by  standing,  recommenced  reading  the  debates  in  Congress. 

At  length,  when  he  finished  reading  and  saw  that  his  com- 
panions had  finished  eating,  he  swallowed  his  muffin  in  two 
bolts,  gulped  his  coffee  in  two  draughts,  and  started  up  from  the 
table,  exclaiming: 

"  Now,  then,  Ishmael,  if  you  are  ready  ?  " 

Ishmael  arose,  bowed  to  Claudia,  and  turned  to  follow  his 
employer. 

The  judge  led  him  upstairs  to  a  sort  of  office  or  study,  im- 
mediately over  the  breakfast  room,  having  an  outlook  over  the 
Capitol  grounds,  and  fitted  up  with  a  few  book-cases,  writing 
desks,  and  easy-chairs. 

The  judge  drew  a  chair  to  the  central  table,  which  was  cov- 
ered with  papers,  and  motioned  Ishmael  to  take  another  seat 
at  the  same  table.  As  soon  as  Ishmael  obeyed.  Judge  Merlin 
began  to  initiate  him  into  his  new  duties,  which,  in  fact,  were 
so  much  of  the  same  description  with  those  in  which  he  had 
been  engaged  at  Tanglewood,  that  he  very  soon  understood  and 
entered  upon  them. 

The  first  few  days  of  Ishmael's  sojourn  were  very  busy  ones. 
There  was  a  great  arrearage  of  correspondence;  and  he  worked 
diligently,  day  and  night,  until  he  had  brought  up  all  arrears 
to  the  current  time. 

When  this  was  done,  and  he  had  but  two  mails  to  attend 


Claudia's  city  home.  409 

io  in  one  day,  he  found  that  five  hours  in  the  morning  and  five 
in  the  evening  sufiiced  for  the  work,  and  left  him  ample  leisure 
for  the  pursuit  of  his  legal  studies,  and  he  devoted  himself  to 
them,  both  by  diligent  reading  and  by  regular  attendance  upon 
the  sessions  of  the  circuit  court,  where  he  watched,  listened, 
and  took  notes,  comparing  the  latter  with  the  readings.  Of 
course  he  could  not  do  all  this  without  reducing  his  labors  to 
a  perfect  system,  and  he  could  not  constantly  adhare  to  this  sys- 
tem without  practicing  the  severest  self-denial.  I  tell  you, 
young  reader  of  this  stoiy,  that  in  this  republic  there  is  no 
**  royal  road  "  to  fame  and  honor.  The  way  is  open  to  each  and 
all  of  you;  but  it  is  steep  and  rugged,  yes,  and  slippery;  and  . 
you  must  toil  and  sweat  and  watch  if  you  would  reach  the 
summit. 

"Would  you  know  exactly  how  Ishmael  managed  this  stage 
of  his  toilsome  ascent  ?  I  will  tell  you.  He  arose  at  four  o'clock 
those  winter  mornings,  dressed  quickly  and  went  into  the 
judge's  study,  where  he  made  the  fire  himself,  because  the  ser- 
vants would  not  be  astir  for  hours;  then  he  sat  down  with  the 
pile  of  letters  that  had  come  by  the  night's  mail ;  he  looked  over 
the  judge's  hints  regarding  them,  and  then  went  to  work  and 
answered  letters  or  copied  documents  for  four  hours,  or 
xmtil  the  breakfast  bell  rung,  when  he  joined  Claudia  and  her 
father  at  table.  After  breakfast  he  attended  the  judge  in  his 
study;  submitted  to  his  inspection  the  morning's  work;  then 
took  them  to  the  post  office,  posted  them,  brought  back  the  let- 
ters that  arrived  by  the  morning's  mail,  and  left  them  with 
the  judge  to  be  read.  This  would  bring  him  to  about  eleven 
o'clock,  when  he  went  to  the  City  Hall,  to  watch  the  proceed- 
ings of  the  circuit  court,  making  careful  notes  and  comparing 
them  with  his  own  private  readings  of  law.  He  returned  from 
the  circuit  court  about  two  o'clock;  spent  the  afternoon  in  an- 
swering the  letters  left  for  him  by  the  judge;  dined  late  with 
the  family;  took  the  second  lot  of  letters  to  the  post  office,  and 
returned  with  those  that  came  by  the  evening  mail;  gave  them 
to  the  judge  for  examination,  and  then  went  up  to  his  room  to 
spend  the  evening  in  reading  law  and  comparing  notes.  He 
allowed  himself  no  recreation  and  but  little  rest.  His  soul  was 
sustained  by  what  Balzac  calls  "  the  divine  patience  of  genius." 
And  the  more  he  was  enabled  to  measure  himself  with  other 
men,  the  more  confidence  he  acquired  in  his  own  powers.  This 
severe  mental  labor  took  away  much  of  the  pain  of  his  "  de^ 


410  ishmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

spised  love."  Ishmael  was  one  to  love  strongly,  ardently,  con- 
stantly. But  lie  was  not  one  to  drivel  over  a  hopeless  passion. 
He  loved  Claudia:  how  deeply,  how  purely,  how  faithfully,  all 
his  future  life  was  destined  to  prove.  And  he  knew  that  Claudia 
loved  him;  but  that  all  the  prejudices  of  her  rank,  her  charac- 
ter, and  her  education  were  warring  in  her  bosom  against  this 
love.  He  knew  that  she  appreciated  his  personal  worth,  but 
scorned  his  social  position.  He  felt  that  she  had  resolved  never, 
under  any  circumstances  whatever,  to  marry  him ;  but  he  trusted 
in  her  honor  never  to  permit  her,  while  loving  him,  to  marry 
another.  And  in  the  meantime  years  of  toil  would  pass;  he 
would  achieve  greatness;  and  when  the  obscurity  of  his  origin 
should  be  lost  in  the  light  of  his  fame,  then  he  would  woo  and 
win  Miss  Merlin ! 

Such  were  the  young  man's  dreams,  whenever  in  his  busy, 
crowded,  useful  life  he  gave  himself  time  to  dream. 

And  meanwhile,  what  was  the  conduct  of  the  heiress  to  her 
presumptuous  lover?  Coldly  proud,  but  very  respectful.  For, 
mark  you  this:  'No  one  who  was  capable  of  appreciating  Ish- 
mael Worth  could  possibly  treat  him  otherwise  than  with  re- 
spect. 

CHAPTER  LI. 

HEIRESS  AND  BEAUTY. 

'Tis  hard  upon  the  dawn,  and  yet 

She  comes  not  from  the  ball. 
The  night  is  cold  and  bleak  and  wet, 

And  the  snow  lies  over  all. 

I  praised  her  with  her  diamonds  on! 

And  as  she  went  she  smiled, 
And  yet  I  sighed  when  she  was  gone, 

I  sighed  like  any  child. 

— Meredith. 

Meanwhile  all  Claudia  Merlin's  time  was  taken  up  with  milli- 
ners, mantua  makers,  and  jewelers.  She  was  to  make  her  first 
appearance  in  society  at  the  President's  first  evening  reception, 
which  was  to  be  held  on  Friday,  the  sixth  of  January.  It  was 
now  very  near  the  New  Year,  and  all  her  intervening  time 
was  occupied  in  preparations  for  the  festivities  that  were  to 
attend  it. 

On  the  twenty-third  of  December,  two  days  before  Christ- 


HEIRESS    AND    BEAUTY.  411 

mas,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Middleton  and  all  tlieir  family  arrived. 
They  came  up  by  the  "  Columbia,"  and  reached  Judge  Merlin's 
house  early  in  the  morning.  Consequently  they  were  not  fa- 
tigued, and  the  day  of  their  arrival  was  a  day  of  unalloyed 
pleasure  and  of  family  jubilee. 

Ishmael  took  sympathetic  part  in  all  the  rejoicings,  and  was 
caressed  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Middleton  and  all  their  younger  chil- 
dren as  a  sort  of  supplementary  son  and  brother. 

On  Christmas  Eve,  also,  Reuben  Gray,  Hannah,  and  her  chil- 
dren came  to  town  in  their  wagon.  Honest  Eeuben  had  brought 
a  load  of  turkeys  for  the  Christmas  market,  and  had  "  put  up  "■ 
at  a  plain,  respectable  inn,  much  frequented  by  the  farmers^ 
near  the  market  house;  but  in  the  course  of  the  day  he  and  hia 
wife,  leaving  the  children  in  the  care  of  their  faithful  Sally, 
who  had  accompanied  them  in  the  character  of  nurse,  called  ou 
Ishmael  and  brought  him  his  trunk  of  wearing  apparel. 

The  judge,  in  his  hearty,  old-fashioned,  thoughtless  hospi- 
tality, would  have  had  Reuben  and  his  family  come  and  stop  at 
his  own  house.  But  Reuben  Gray,  with  all  his  simplicity,  had 
the  good  sense  firmly  to  decline  this  invitation  and  keep  to 
his  tavern. 

"  For  you  know,  Hannah,  my  dear,"  he  said  to  his  wife,  when, 
they  found  themselves  again  at  the  Plow,  "we  would  bother 
the  family  more'n  the  judge  reckoned  on.  What  could  they 
do  with  us?  Where  could  they  put  us?  As  to  axing  of  us  in 
the  drawing  room  or  sitting  of  us  down  in  the  dining  room, 
with  all  his  fine,  fashionable  friends,  that  wasn't  to  be  thought 
on!  And  as  to  you  being  put  into  the  kitchen,  along  of  the 
servants,  that  I  wouldn't  allow!  Now  the  judge,  he  didn't 
think  of  all  these  things :  but  I  did ;  and  I  was  right  to  decline 
the  invitation,  don't  you  think  so  ? " 

"  Of  course  you  were,  Reuben,  and  if  you  hadn't  declined  it, 
I  would,  and  that  I  tell  you,"  answered  Mrs.  Gray, 

"And  so,  Hannah,  my  dear,  we  will  just  keep  our  Christ- 
mas where  we  are!  We  won't  deprive  Ishmael  of  his  grand 
Christmas  dinner  with  his  grand  friends;  but  we  will  ax  him 
to  come  over  and  go  to  the  playhouse  with  us  and  see  the  play, 
and  then  we'll  all  come  back  and  have  a  nice  supper  all  on  us 
together.  We'll  have  a  roast  turkey  and  mince  pie  and  egg-nog^ 
and  apple  toddy,  my  dear,  and  make  a  night  of  it,  once  in  a  way ! 
What  do  you  think  ?  " 

"  I  think  that  will  be  all  very  well,  Reuben,  so  that  you  don't 


412  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

take  too  much  of  that  same  egg-nog  and  apple  toddy,"  replied 
Mrs.  Gray. 

"  Now,  Hannah,  did  you  ever  know  me  to  do  such  a  thing  ? " 
inquired  Reuben,  with  an  injured  air. 

"  No,  Eauben,  I  never  did.  But  I  think  that  a  man  that 
even  so  much  as  touches  spiritable  likkers  is  never  safe  until 
he  is  in  his  grave,"  said  Mrs.  Gray  solemnly. 

"  Where  he  can  never  get  no  more,"  sighed  Reuben ;  and  as 
!he  had  to  attend  the  market  to  sell  his  turkeys  that  night,  he 
left  Hannah  and  went  to  put  his  horses  to  the  wagon. 

So  fine  a  trade  did  Reuben  drive  with  his  fat  turkeys  that 
he  came  home  at  ten  with  an  empty  wagon  and  full  poeketbook, 
and  told  Hannah  that  she  might  have  a  new  black  silk  "  gownd," 
and  Sally  should  have  a  red  calico  "  un,"  and  as  for  the  chil- 
dren, they  should  have  an  outfit  from  head  to  foot. 

Christmas  morning  dawned  gloriously.  All  the  little  Mid- 
dleton's  were  made  happy  by  the  fruit  of  the  Christmas  tree. 
In.  the  many  kind  interchanges  of  gifts  Ishmael  was  not  en- 
tirely forgotten.  Some  loving  heart  had  remembered  him. 
Some  skillful  hand  had  worked  for  him.  "When  he  went  up  to 
his  room  after  breakfast  on  Christmas  morning,  he  saw  upon 
his  dressing  table  a  packet  directed  to  himself.  On  opening 
it  he  found  a  fine  pocket-kandkerchief  neatly  hemmed  and 
marked,  a  pair  of  nice  gloves,  a  pair  of  home-knit  socks,  and  a 
pair  of  embroidered  slippers.  Here  was  no  useless  fancy  trump- 
ery; all  were  useful  articles;  and  in  the  old-fashioned,  house- 
wifely present  Ishmael  recognized  the  thoughtful  heart  and 
carefvd  hand  of  Bee,  and  grateful,  affectionate  tears  filled  his 
eyes.  He  went  below  stairs  to  a  back  parlor,  where  he  felt 
sure  he  should  find  Bee  presiding  over  the  indoor  amusements 
of  her  younger  brothers  and  sisters. 

And,  sure  enough,  there  the  pretty  little  motherly  maiden 
was  among  the  children. 

Ishmael  went  straight  up  to  her,  saying,  in  fervent  tones: 

"  I  thank  you.  Bee ;  I  thank  you  for  remembering  me." 

"  Why,  who  should  remember  you  if  not  I,  Ishmael  ?  Are 
you  not  like  one  of  ourselves?  And  should  I  forget  you  any 
sooner  than  I  should  forget  Walter,  or  James,  or  John  ? "  said 
Bee,  with  a  pleasant  smile, 

"  Ah,  Bee !  I  have  neither  mother  nor  sister  to  think  of  me 
at  festive  times;  but  you,  dear  Bee,  you  make  me  forget  the 
meed  of  either." 


HEIEESS    AND    BEAUTY.  413- 

"You  have  'neithei  mother  nor  sister,'  Islimael?  Now,  do 
not  think  so,  while  my  dear  mother  and  myself  live;  for  I  am 
sure  she  loves  you  as  a  son,  Ishmael,  and  I  love  you — as  a 
brother,'^  answered  Bee,  speaking  comfort  to  the  lonely  youth 
from  the  depths  of  her  own  pure,  kind  heart.  But  ah!  the  in- 
tense blush  that  followed  her  words  might  have  revealed  to  an 
interested  observer  how  much  more  than  any  brother  she  loved 
Ishmael  Worth. 

Judge  Merlin,  Claudia,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Middleton,  and  Ishmael 
■went  to  church. 

Bee  stayed  home  to  see  that  the  nurses  took  proper  care  of 
the  children. 

They  had  a  family  Christmas  dinner. 

And  after  that  Ishmael  excused  himself,  and  went  over  to 
the  Plow  to  spend  the  evening  with  Keuben  and  Hannah. 
That  evening  the  three  friends  went  to  the  theater,  and  saw 
their  first  play,  "  the  Comedy  of  Errors,"  together.  And  it  did 
many  an  old,  satiated  play-goer  good  to  see  the  hearty  zest  with 
which  honest  Reuben  enjoyed  the  fun.  Nor  was  Hannah  or 
Ishmael  much  behind  him  in  their  keen  appreciation  of  the 
piece;  only,  at  those  passages  at  which  Hannah  and  Ishmael 
only  smiled,  Reuben  rubbed  his  knees,  and  laughed  aloud,, 
startling  all  the  audience. 

"  It's  a  good  thing  I  don't  live  in  the  city,  Hannah,  my  dear,, 
for  I  would  go  to  the  play  every  night !  "  said  Reuben,  as  they 
left  the  theater  at  the  close  of  the  performance. 

"  And  it  is  a  good  thing  you  don't,  Rerben,  for  it  would  be 
the  ruination  of  you !  "  admitted  Hannah. 

They  went  back  to  the  Plow,  where  the  Christmas  supper 
was  served  for  them  in  the  plain  little  private  sitting  room. 
After  partaking  moderately  of  its  delicacies,  Ishmael  bado 
them  good-night,  and  returned  home. 

Reuben  and  Hannah  stayed  a  week  in  the  city.  Reuben  took 
her  about  to  see  all  the  sights  and  to  shop  in  all  the  stores. 
And  on  New  Year's  day,  when  the  President  received  the  pub- 
lic, Reuben  took  Hannah  to  the  White  House,  to  "pay  their 
duty  "  to  the  chief  magistrate  of  the  nation.  And  the  day  after 
New  Year's  day  they  took  leave  of  Ishmael  and  of  all  their 
friends,  and  returned  home,  delighted  with  the  memory  of  their 
pleasant  visit  to  the  city. 

Ishmael,  after  all  these  interruptions,  returned  with  new  zest 
to  his  duties,  and,  as  before,  worked  diligently  day  and  p.ight. 


414 


ishmael;  or,  rN"  ths  depths. 


Claudia  went  deeper  into  her  preparations  for  her  first  ap« 
pearance  in  society  at  the  President's  first  drawing  room  of 
the  season. 

The  night  of  nights  for  the  heiress  came.  After  dinner 
Claudia  indulged  herself  in  a  long  nap,  so  that  she  might  be 
quite  fresh  in  the  evening.  When  she  woke  up  she  took  a  cup 
of  tea,  and  immediately  retired  to  her  chamber  to  dress. 

Mis.  Middleton  superintended  her  toilet. 

Claudia  wore  a  rich  point-lace  dress  over  a  white  satin  skirt. 
The  wreath  that  crowned  her  head,  the  necklace  that  reposed 
upon  her  bosom,  the  bracelets  that  clasped  her  arms,  the  girdle 
that  enclosed  her  waist,  and  the  bunches  of  flowers  that  fes- 
tooned her  upper  lace  dress,  were  all  of  the  same  rich  pattern — 
lilies  of  the  valley,  whose  blossoms  were  formed  of  pearl,  whose 
leaves  were  of  emeralds,  and  whose  dew  was  of  diamonds. 
Snowy  gloves  and  snowy  shoes  completed  this  toilet,  the  effect 
of  which  w-as  rich,  chaste,  and  elegant  beyond  description.  Mrs. 
Middleton  wore  a  superb  dress  of  ruby-colored  velvet. 

When  they  were  both  quite  ready,  they  went  down  into  the 
drawing  room,  where  Judge  Merlin,  Mr.  Middleton,  and  Ish- 
mael were  awaiting  them,  and  where  Claudia's  splendid  pres- 
ence suddenly  dazzled  them.  Mr.  Middleton  and  Judge  Merlin 
gazed  upon  the  radiant  beauty  with  undisguised  admiration. 
And  Ishmael  looked  on  with  a  deep,  unuttered  groan.  How 
dared  he  love  this  stately,  resplendent  queen  ?  How  dared 
he  hope  she  would  ever  deign  to  notice  him?  But  the 
next  instant  he  reproached  himself  for  the  groan  and  the  doubt 
— how  could  he  have  been  so  fooled  by  a  mere  shimmer  of  satin 
and  glitter  of  jewels? 

Judge  Merlin  and  Mr.  Middleton  were  in  the  conventional 
evening  dress  of  gentlemen,  and  were  quite  ready  to  attend  the 
ladies.  They  had  nothing  to  do,  therefore,  but  to  hand  them  to 
the  carriage,  which  they  accordingly  did.  The  party  of  four, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Middleton,  Judge  Merlin,  and  Claudia,  drove  off. 

Ishmael  and  Beatrice  remained  at  home.  Ishmael  to  study 
his  law  books;  Beatrice  to  give  the  boys  their  supper  and  see 
that  the  nurses  took  proper  care  ©f  the  children. 


AN  EVENING   AT   THE   PRESIDENT'S.  415 

CHAPTER  LII. 

AN  EVENING  AT  THE  PRESIDENT'S. 

There  ■was  a  sound  of  revelry  by  night— 

"  Columbia's"  capital  had  gatliered  then 
Her  beauty  and  her  chivah-y:  and  bright 

The  lamps  shone  o'er  fair  women  and  brave  men, 
A  thousand  hearts  beat  happily;  and  when 

Music  arose  with  its  voluptuous  swell, 
Soft  eyes  looked  love  to  eyes  that  spoke  again, 

And  all  went  merry  as  a  marriage  bell. 

— Byron. 

The  carriage  rolled  along  Pennsylvania  A.^enue.  The  weather 
had  changed  since  sunset,  and  the  evening  was  misty  with  a 
light,  drizzling  rain.  Yet  still  the  scene  was  a  gay,  busy,  and 
enlivening  one ;  the  gas  lamps  that  lighted  the  Avenue  gleamed 
brightly  through  the  rain  drops  like  smiles  through  tears;  the 
sidewalks  were  filled  with  pedestrians,  and  the  middle  of  the 
street  with  vehicles,  all  going  in  one  direction,  to  the  Presi- 
dent's palace. 

A  decorously  slow  drive  of  fifteen  minutes  brought  our  party 
through  this  gay  scene  to  a  gaj'er  one  at  the  north  gate  of 
the  President's  park,  where  a  great  crowd  of  carriages  were 
drawn  up,  waiting  their  turn  to  drive  in. 

The  gates  were  open  and  lighted  by  four  tall  lamps  placed 
upon  the  posts,  and  which  illuminated  the  whole  scene. 

Judge  Merlin's  carriage  drew  up  on  the  outskirts  of  this 
crowd  of  vehicles,  to  wait  his  turn  to  enter;  but  he  soon  found 
himself  enclosed  in  the  center  of  the  assemblage  by  other  car- 
riages that  had  come  after  his  own.  He  had  to  wait  full  fifteen 
minutes  before  he  could  fall  into  the  procession  that  was  slowly 
making  its  way  through  the  right-hand  gate,  and  along  the 
lighted  circular  avenue  that  led  up  to  the  front  entrance  of  the 
palace.  Even  on  this  misty  night  the  grounds  were  gayly  il- 
luminated and  well  filled.  But  crowded  as  the  scene  was,  the 
utmost  order  prevailed.  The  carriages  that  came  up  the  right- 
hand  avenue,  full  of  visitors,  discharged  them  at  the  entrance 
hall  and  rolled  away  empty  down  the  left-hand  avenue,  so  that 
there  was  a  continuous  procession  of  full  carriages  coming  up 
one  way  and  empty  carriages  going  down  the  other. 

At  length  Judge  Merlin's  carriage,  coming  slowly  along  in 
the  line,  drew  up  in  its  turn  before  the  front  of  the  mansion. 


416  ishmael;  oe,  iisr  the  deptus. 

The  whole  fagade  of  the  White  House  was  splendidly  illumi- 
Jiated,  as  if  to  express  in  radiant  light  a  smiling  welcome.  The 
iialls  were  occupied  by  attentive  officers,  who  received  the  visi- 
tors and  ushered  them  into  cloakrooms.  Within  the  house  also, 
great  as  the  crowd  of  visitors  was,  the  most  perfect  order  pre- 
vailed. 

Judge  Merlin  and  his  party  were  received  by  a  civil,  re- 
spectable official,  who  directed  them  to  a  cloakroom,  and  they 
soon  found  themselves  in  a  close,  orderly  crowd  moving  thither- 
ward. When  the  gentlemen  had  succeeded  in  conveying  their 
ladies  safely  to  this  bourne  and  seen  them  well  over  its  thresh- 
old, they  retired  to  the  receptacle  where  they  were  to  leave 
their  hats  and  overcoats  before  coming  back  to  take  their 
parties  into  the  saloon. 

In  the  ladies'  cloakroom  Claudia  and  her  chaperone  found 
themselves  in  a  brilliant,  impracticable  crowd.  There  were 
about  half-a-dozen  tall  dressing  glasses  in  the  place,  and  about 
Jbalf-a-hundred  young  ladies  were  trying  to  smooth  braids  and 
ringlets  and  adjust  wreaths  and  coronets  by  their  aid.  And 
"there  were  about  half-a-hundred  more  in  the  center  of  the  room; 
some  taking  off  opera  cloaks,  shaking  out  flounces,  and  waiting 
their  turns  to  go  to  the  mirrors;  and  some,  quite  ready  and 
waiting  the  appearance  of  their  escort  at  the  door  to  take 
them  to  the  saloon;  and  beside  these  some  were  coming  in  and 
■some  were  passing  out  continually ;  and  through  the  open  doors 
the  crowds  of  those  newly  arriving  and  the  crowds  of  those 
passing  on  to  the  reception  rooms,  were  always  visible. 

Claudia  looked  upon  this  seething  multi<;ude  with  a  shudder. 

"  What  a  scene !  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  Yes,  but  with  it  all,  what  order !  There  has  never  been  such 
•order  and  system  in  these  crowded  receptions   as  now  under 

the  management  of  Mrs.  ,"  said  Mrs.  Middleton,  naming 

the  accomplished  lady  who,  that  season,  ruled  the  domestic 
affairs  of  the  White  House. 

As  Mrs.  Middleton  and  Claudia  had  finished  their  toilets,  to 
"the  sticking  of  the  very  last  pin,  before  leaving  their  dressing 
rooms  at  home,  they  had  now  nothing  to  do  but  to  give  their 
opera  cloaks  to  a  woman  in  attendance,  and  then  stand  near  the 
door  to  watch  for  the  appearance  of  Judge  Merlin  and  Mr. 
Middleton.  They  had  but  a  few  minutes  to  wait.  The  gentle- 
men soon  came  and  gave  their  arms  to  their  ladies  and  led  them 
to  join  the  throng  that  were  slowly  making  its  way  through 


AN  EVENESTG   AT   THE   PRESIDENT'S.  417 

tlie  crowded  halls  and  anterooms  towards  the  audience  cham- 
bei',  where  the  President  received  his  visitors.  It  was  a  severe 
ordeal,  the  passage  of  those  halls.  Our  party,  like  all  their 
companions,  were  pressed  forward  in  the  crowd  until  they  were 
fairly  pushed  into  the  presence  chamber,  known  as  the  small 
crimson  drawing  room,  in  which  the  President  and  his  family 
waited  to  receive  their  visitors. 

Yes,  there  he  stood,  the  majestic  old  man,  with  his  kingly 
gray  head  bared,  and  his  stately  form  clothed  in  the  republican 
citizen's  dress  of  simple  black.  There  he  stood,  fresh  from  the 
victories  of  a  score  of  well-fought  fields,  receiving  the  meed  of 
honor  won  by  his  years,  his  patriotism,  and  his  courage.  A 
crowd  of  admirers  perpetually  passed  before  him;  by  the  or- 
derly arrangement  of  the  ushers  they  came  up  on  the  right- 
hand  side,  bowed  or  courtesied  before  him,  received  a  cordial 
shake  of  the  hand,  a  smile,  and  a  few  kind  words,  and  then 
passed  on  to  the  left  towards  the  great  saloon  commonly  knovnx 
as  the  East  Room.  Perhaps  never  has  any  President  since 
Washington  made  himself  so  much  beloved  by  the  people  as 
did  General during  his  short  administration.  Great  love- 
compelling  power  had  that  dignified  and  benignant  old  man! 
Pit  to  be  the  chief  magistrate  of  a  great,  free  people  he  was  I 
At  least  so  thought  Judge  Merlin's  daughter,  as  she  courtesied 
before  him,  received  the  cordial  shake  of  his  hand,  heard  the 
kind  tones  of  his  voice  say,  "  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you,  my 
dear,"  and  passed  on  with  the  throng  who  were  proceeding  to- 
ward the  East  Room. 

Once  arrived  in  that  magnificent  room,  they  found  space 
enough  even  for  that  vast  crowd  to  move  about  in.  This  room 
is  too  well  known  to  the  public  to  need  any  labored  description. 
For  the  information  of  those  who  have  never  seen  it,  it  is 
sufficient  to  say  that  its  dimensions  are  magnificent,  its  decora- 
tions superb,  its  furniture  luxurious,  and  its  illuminations 
splendid.  Three  enormous  chandeliers,  like  constellations, 
flooded  the  scene  with  light,  and  a  fine  brass  band,  somewhere 
out  of  sight,  filled  the  air  with  music.  A  brilliant  company 
enlivened,  but  did  not  crowd,  the  room.  There  were  assembled 
beautiful  girls,  handsome  women,  gorgeous  old  ladies;  there 
were  officers  of  the  army  and  of  the  navy  in  their  full-dress 
uniforms;  there  were  the  diplomatic  corps  of  all  foreign  na- 
tions in  the  costumes  of  their  several  ranks  and  countries; 
there  were  grave  senators  and  wise  judges  and  holy  divines; 


418      ishmael;  ok,  in  the  depths. 

there  were  Indian  chiefs  in  their  beads  and  blankets;  thwre 
were  adventurous  Poles  from  Warsaw;  exiled  Bourbons  from 
Paris ;  and  Comanche  braves  from  the  Cordilleras !  There  was, 
in  fact,  such  a  curious  assemblage  as  can  be  met  with  nowhere 
on  the  faee  of  the  earth  but  in  the  east  drawing  room  of  our 
President's  palace  on  a  great  reception  evening ! 

Into  this  motley  but  splendid  assemblage  Judge  Merlin  led 
his  beautiful  daughter.  At  first  her  entrance  attracted  no  at- 
tention; but  when  one,  and  then  another,  noticed  the  dazzling 
new  star  of  beauty  that  had  so  suddenly  risen  above  their  hori- 
zon, a  whisper  arose  that  soon  grew  into  a  general  buzz  of  ad- 
miration that  attended  Claudia  in  her  progress  through  the 
room  and  heralded  her  approach  to  those  at  the  upper  end. 
And 

"  Who  is  she  ?  "  "  Who  can  she  be  ?  "  were  the  low-toned 
questions  that  reached  her  ear  as  her  father  led  her  to  a  sofa 
and  rested  her  upon  it.  But  these  questions  came  only  from 
those  who  were  strangers  in  Washington.  Of  course  all  others 
knew  the  person  of  Judge  Merlin,  and  surmised  the  young  lady 
on  his  arm  to  be  his  daughter. 

Soon  after  the  judge  and  his  party  were  seated,  his  friends 
began  to  come  forward  to  pay  their  respects  to  him,  and  to  be 
presented  to  his  beautiful  daughter. 

Claudia  received  all  these  with  a  self-possession,  grace,  and 
fascination  peculiarly  her  own. 

There  was  no  doubt  about  it — Miss  Merlin's  first  entrance 
into  society  had  been  a  great  success ;  she  had  made  a  sensation. 

Among  those  presented  to  Miss  Merlin  on  that  occasion  was 

the  Honorable ,  the  British  minister.    He  was  young, 

tandsome,  accomplished,  and  a  bachelor.  Consequently  he  was 
a  target  for  all  the  shafts  of  Cupid  that  ladies'  eyes  could  send. 

He  offered  his  arm  to  Miss  Merlin  for  a  promenade  thi'ough 
the  room.  She  accepted  it,  and  became  as  much  the  envy  of 
every  unmarried  lady  present  as  if  the  offer  made  and  accepted 
had  been  for  a  promenade  through  life. 

No  such  thought,  however,  was  in  the  young  English  minis- 
ter's mind;  for  after  making  the  circuit  of  the  room  two  or 
three  times,  he  brought  his  companion  back,  and,  with  a  smile 
and  a  bow,  left  her  in  the  care  of  her  father. 

But  if  the  people  were  inclined  to  feed  their  envy,  they  found 
plenty  of  food  for  that  appetite.  A  few  minutes  after  Miss 
Merlin  had  resumed  her  seat  a  general  buzz  of  voices  announced 


AK    EVENIIfG    AT   THE    PRESIDENT'S.  419 

some  new  event  of  interest.  It  turned  out  to  be  the  entrance 
of  the  President  and  his  family  into  the  East  Koom. 

For  some  good  reason  or  other,  known  onlj'  to  his  own  friendly 
heart,  the  President,  sauntering  leisurely,  dispensing  bows, 
smiles,  and  kind  words  as  he  passed,  went  straight  up  to  the 
sofa  whereon  his  old  friend.  Judge  Merlin,  sat,  took  a  seat  be- 
side him,  and  entered  into  conversation. 

Ah !  their  talk  was  not  about  state  affairs,  foreign  or  domestic 
policy,  duties,  imports,  war,  peace — no!  their  talk  was  of  their 
boyhood's  days,  spent  together;  of  the  holidays  they  had  had; 
of  the  orchards  they  had  robbed ;  of  the  well-merited  thrashings 
they  had  got;  and  of  the  good  old  schoolmaster,  long  since 
dust  and  ashes,  who  had  lectured  and  flogged  them! 

Claudia  listened,  and  loved  the  old  man  more,  that  he  could 
turn  from  the  memory  of  his  bloody  victories,  the  presence  of 
his  political  cares,  and  the  prospects  of  a  divided  cabinet,  to 
refresh  himself  with  the  green  reminiscences  of  his  boyhood's 
days.  It  was  impossible  for  the  young  girl  to  feel  so  much 
sympathy  without  betraying  it  and  attracting  the  attention 
of  the  old  man.  He  looked  at  her.  He  had  shaken  hands  with 
her,  and  said  that  he  was  glad  to  see  her,  when  she  was  pre- 
sented to  him  in  his  presence  chamber;  but  he  had  not  really 
seen  her;  she  had  been  only  one  of  the  passing  crowd  of  cour- 
tesiers  for  whom  he  felt  a  wholesale  kindness  and  expressed  a 
wholesale  good-will;  now,  however,  he  looked  at  her — now  he 
saw  her. 

Sixty-five  years  had  whitened  the  hair  of  General  ,  but 

he  was  not  insensible  to  the  charms  of  beauty;  nor  unconscious 
of  his  own  power  of  conferring  honor  upon  beauty. 

Eising,  therefore,  with  all  the  stately  courtesy  of  the  old 
school  gentleman,  he  offered  his  arm  to  Miss  Merlin  for  a 
promenade  through  the  rooms. 

With  a  sweet  smile,  Claudia  arose,  and  once  more  became 
the  cynosure  of  all  eyes  and  the  envy  of  all  hearts.  A  few 
turns  through  the  rooms,  and  the  President  brought  the  beauty 
back,  seated  her,  and  took  his  own  seat  beside  her  on  the  sofa. 

But  the  cup  of  bitterness  for  the  envious  was  not  yet  full. 
Another  hum  and  bi;zz  went  around  the  room,  announcing  some 
new  event  of  great  interest;  which  seemed  to  be  a  late  arrival 
of  much  importance. 

Presently  the  British  minister  and  another  gentleman  were 
eeen  approaching  the  sofa  where  sat  the  President,  Judge  Mer« 


120  ISHMAEL  ;    OK,  IJ^   THE   DEPTHS. 

lin,  Miss  Merlin,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Middleton.  They  paused 
immediately  before  the  President,  when  the  minister  said: 

"  Your  Excellency,  permit  me  to  present  to  you  the  Viscount 
Vincent,  late  from  London." 

The  President  arose  and  heartily  shook  hands  with  the  young 
foreigner,  cordially  saying: 

"  I  am  happy  to  see  you,  my  lord ;  happy  to  welcome  you  to 
Washington." 

The  viscount  bowed  low  before  the  gray-haired  old  hero,  say- 
ing, in  a  low  tone: 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  the  President  of  the  United  States ;  but 
I  am  proud  to  shake  the  hand  of  the  conqueror  of — of " 

The  viscount  paused,  his  memory  suddenly  failed  him,  for 
the  life  and  soul  of  him  he  could  not  remember  the  names  of 
those  bloody  fields  where  the  General  had  won  his  laurels. 

The  President  gracefully  covered  the  hesitation  of  the  vis- 
count and  evaded  the  compliment  at  the  same  time  by  turning' 
to  the  ladies  of  his  party  and  presenting  his  guest,  saying: 

"  Mrs.  Middleton,  Lord  Vincent.  Miss  Merlin,  Lord  Vin- 
cent." 

The  viscount  bowed  low  to  these  ladies,  who  courtesied  in 
turn  and  resumed  their  seats. 

"  My  old  friend.  Judge  Merlin,  Lord  Vincent,"  then  said  the 
plain,  matter-of-fact  old  President. 

The  judge  and  the  viscount  simultaneously  bowed,  and  then, 
these  formalities  being  over,  seats  were  found  for  the  two 
strangers,  and  the  whole  group  fell  into  an  easy  chat — subject 
of  discussion  the  old  question  that  is  sure  to  be  argued  when- 
ever the  old  world  and  the  new  meet — the  rival  merits  of  mon- 
archies and  republics.  The  discussion  grew  warm,  though  the 
disputants  remained  courteous.  The  viscount  grew  bored,  and 
gradually  dropped  out  of  the  argument,  leaving  the  subject  iu 
the  hands  of  the  President  md  the  minister,  who,  of  course, 
had  taken  opposite  sides,  the  minister  representing  the  advan- 
tages of  a  monarchical  form  of  government,  and  the  President 
contending  for  a  republican  one.  The  viscount  noticed  that  a 
large  portion  of  the  company  were  promenading  in  a  procession 
round  and  round  the  room  to  the  music  of  one  of  Beethoven's 
grand  marches.  It  was  monotonous  enough;  but  it  was  better 
than  sitting  there  and  listening  to  the  vexed  question  whether 
"  the  peoples "  were  capable  of  governing  themselves.  So  ha 
turned  to  Miss  Merlin  with  a  bow  and  smile,  saying: 


AN   EVENING    AT   THE   PRESIDENT'S.  421 

*'  Shall  we  join  the  promenade?    Will  you  so  far  honor  me? " 

"  With  pleasure,  my  lord,"  replied  Miss  Merlin. 

And  he  rose  and  gave  her  his  arm,  and  they  walked  away. 
And  for  the  third  time  that  evening  Claudia  became  the  target 
of  all  sorts  of  glances — glances  of  admiration,  glances  of  hate. 
She  had  been  led  out  by  the  young  English  minister;  then  by 
the  old  President;  and  now  she  was  promenading  with  the  lion 
of  the  evening,  the  only  titled  person  at  this  republican  court, 
the  Viscount  Vincent.  And  she  a  newcomer,  a  mere  girl,  not 
twenty  years  old!  It  was  intolerable,  thought  all  the  ladies, 
young  and  old,  married  or  single. 

But  if  the  beautiful  Claudia  was  the  envy  of  all  the  women, 
the  handsome  Vincent  was  not  less  the  envy  of  all  the  men  pres- 
ent. "Puppy";  "coxcomb";  "Jackanape";  "swell";  "Vis- 
count, indeed!  more  probably  some  foreign  blackleg  or  bar- 
ber " ;  "  It  is  perfectly  ridiculous  the  manner  in  which  American 
girls  throw  themselves  under  the  feet  of  these  titled  foreign 
paupers,"  were  some  of  the  low-breathed  blessings  bestowed 
upon  young  Lord  Vincent.  And  yet  these  expletives  were  not 
intended  to  be  half  so  malignant  as  they  might  have  sounded. 
They  were  but  the  impulsive  expressions  of  transient  vexation 
at  seeing  the  very  pearl  of  beauty,  on  the  first  evening  of  her 
appearance,  carried  off  by  an  alien. 

In  truth,  the  viscount  and  the  heiress  were  a  very  handsome 
couple;  and  notwithstanding  all  the  envy  felt  for  them,  all  eyes 
followed  them  with  secret  admiration.  The  beautiful  Claiidia 
was  a  rare  type  of  the  young  American  girl — tall,  slender,  grace- 
ful, dark-haired,  dark-eyed,  with  a  rich,  glowing  bloom  on 
cheeks  and  lips.  And  her  snow  white  dress  of  misty  lace  over 
shining  satin,  and  her  gleaming  pearls  and  sparkling  diamonds, 
set  off  her  beauty  well.  Vincent  was  a  fine  specimen  of  the 
young  English  gentleman — tall,  broad-chouldered,  deep-chested; 
with  a  stately  head;  a  fair,  roseate  complexion;  light-brown, 
curling  hair  and  beard;  and  clear,  blue  eyes.  And  his  simple 
evening  dress  of  speckless  black  became  him  well.  His  manners 
were  graceful,  his  voice  pleasant,  and  his  conversation  bril- 
liant; but,  alas,  for  Claudia!  the  greatest  charm  he  possessed 
for  her  was — his  title!  Claudia  knew  another,  handsomer, 
more  graceful,  more  brilliant  than  this  viscount;  but  that  other 
was  unknown,  untitled,  and  unnamed  in  the  world.  The  vis- 
count was  so  engaged  with  his  beautiful  companion  that  it 
mas  some  time  before  he  observed  that  the  company  was  drop« 


422  ishsiael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

ping  off  and  the  room  was  half  empty.  He  then  led  Miss  Mer- 
lin back  to  her  party,  took  a  slight  leave  of  them  all,  bowed  to 
the  President,  and  departed. 

Judge  Merlin,  who  had  only  waited  for  his  daughter,  now 
arose  to  go.  His  party  made  their  adieus  and  left  the  saloon. 
As  so  many  of  the  guests  had  already  gone,  they  found  the  halls 
and  anterooms  comparatively  free  of  crowds,  and  easily  made 
their  way  to  the  gentlemen's  cloakroom  and  the  ladies'  dressing 
room,  and  thence  to  the  entrance  hall.  Mr.  Middleton  went  out 
to  call  the  carriage,  which  was  near  at  hand.  And  the  whole 
party  entered  and  drove  homeward.  The  sky  had  not  cleared, 
the  drizzle  still  continued;  but  the  lamps  gleamed  brightly 
through  the  raindrops,  and  the  Avenue  was  as  gay  at  midnight 
as  it  had  been  at  midday.  As  the  carriage  rolled  along.  Judge 
Merlin  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Middleton  discussed  the  reception, 
the  President,  the  company,  and  especially  the  young  English 
viscount. 

"  He  is  the  son  and  heir  of  the  Earl  of  Hurstmonceux,  whose 
estates  lie  somewhere  in  the  rich  county  of  Sussex.  The  title 
did  not  come  to  the  present  earl  in  the  direct  line  of  descent. 
The  late  earl  died  childless,  at  a  very  advanced  age;  and  the 
title  fell  to  his  distant  relation,  Lord  Banff,  the  father  of  this 
young  man,  whose  estates  lie  away  up  in  the  north  of  Scotland 
somewhere.  Thus  the  Scottish  Lord  Banff  became  Earl  of 
Hurstmonceux,  and  his  eldest  son,  our  new  acquaintance,  took 
the  second  title  in  the  family,  and  became  Lord  Vincent,"  said 
Judge  Merlin. 

"The  English  minister  gave  you  this  information?"  in- 
quired Mr.  Middleton. 

"  Yes,  he  did ;  I  suppose  he  thought  it  but  right  to  put  me 
in  possession  of  all  such  facts  in  relation  to  a  young  foreigner 
whom  he  had  been  instrumental  in  introducing  to  my  family. 
But,  by  the  way,  Middleton— Hurstmonceux  ?  Was  not  that 
the  title  of  the  young  dowager  countess  whom  Brudenell  mar- 
ried, and  parted  with,  years  ago  ? " 

"Yes;  and  I  suppose  that  she  was  the  widow  of  that  very 
old  man,  the  late  Earl  of  Hurstmonceux,  who  died  childless; 
in  fact,  she  must  have  been." 

"  I  wonder  whatever  became  of  her  ?  " 

"I  do  not  know;  I  know  nothing  whatever  about  the  last 
Countess  of  Hurstmonceux;  but  I  know  very  well  who  has  a  fair 
prospect  of  becoming  the  next  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux,  if 


THE   VISCOUNT   VmCENT.  423 

she  pleases!"  replied  Mr.  Middleton,  with  a  merry  glance  at 

his  niece. 

Claudia,  who  had  been  a  silent,  thoughtful,  and  attentive 
listener  to  their  conversation,  did  not  reply,  but  smothered  a 
sigh  and  turned  to  look  out  of  the  window.  The  carriage  was 
just  drawing  up  before  their  own  gate. 

The  whole  face  of  the  house  was  closed  and  darkened  except 
one  little  light  that  burned  in  a  small  front  window  at  the  very 
top  of  the  house. 

It  was  Ishmael's  lamp ;  and,  as  plainly  as  if  she  had  been  in 
the  room,  Claudia  in  imagination  saw  the  pale  young  face  bent 
studiously  over  the  volume  lying  open  before  him. 

With  another  inward  sigh  Claudia  gave  her  hand  to  her  uncle, 
who  had  left  the  carriage  to  help  her  out.  And  then  the  whole 
party  entered  the  house,  where  they  were  admitted  by  sleepy 
Jim. 

And  in  another  half  hour  they  were  all  in  repose. 


CHAPTEE  Lin. 

THE  VISCOUNT  VINCENT. 

A  king  may  make  a  belted  knight, 

A  marquis,  duke  and  a'  thivt, 
But  an  honest  man's  aboon  his  might 

Gude  faith  he  niiiuua  fa'  that! 
For  a'  that  and  a'  tliat, 

Their  dignities  and  a'  that, 
The  pith  o'  sense  and  pride  o'  worth 

Are  higher  ranks  than  a'  that. 

— Rohei't  Burns. 

The  next  morning  Tshmael  and  Bee,  the  only  hard  workers 
in  the  family,  were  the  first  to  make  their  appearance  in  the 
breakfast  room.  They  had  both  been  up  for  hours — Ishmael  in 
the  library,  answering  letters,  and  Bee  in  the  nursery,  seeing 
that  the  young  children  were  properly  washed,  dressed,  and 
fed.  And  now,  at  the  usual  hour,  they  came  down,  a  little 
hungry,  and  impatient  for  the  morning  meal.  But  for  some 
time  no  one  joined  them.  All  seemed  to  be  sleeping  off  the 
night's  dissipation.    Bee  waited  nearly  an  hour,  and  then  said : 

"  Ishmael,  I  will  not  detain  you  longer.  I  know  that  you 
wish  to  go  to  the  courthouse,  to  watch  the  Emerson  trial;  so  I 
will  ring  for  breakfast.     Industrious  people  must  not  be  hin- 


42-i  ISHMAEL  ;    OK,  IN   TIIE    DEPTHS. 

dered  by  tlie  tardiness  of  lazy  ones,"  she  added,  witli  a  smile, 
as  she  put  her  hand  to  the  bell-cord. 

Ishmael  was  about  to  protest  against  the  breakfast  being 
hurried  on  his  account,  when  the  matter  was  settled  by  the 
entrance  of  Judge  Merlin,  followed  by  Mr.  Middleton  and 
Claudia.  After  the  morning  salutations  had  passed,  the  judge 
said: 

"  You  may  ring  for  breakfast,  Claudia,  my  dear.  We  will 
not  wait  for  your  aunt,  since  your  uncle  tells  us  that  she  is 
too  tired  to  rise  this  morning." 

But  as  Bee  had  already  rung,  the  coffee  and  muffins  were 
soon  served,  and  the  family  gathered  around  the  table. 

Beside  Claudia's  plate  lay  a  weekly  paper,  which,  as  soon  as 
she  had  helped  her  companions  to  coffee,  she  took  up  and  read. 
It  was  a  lively  gossiping  little  paper  of  that  day,  published 
every  Saturday  morning,  under  the  somewhat  sounding  title 
of  "  The  Republican  Court  Journal,"  and  it  gave,  in  addition 
to  the  news  of  the  world,  the  doings  of  the  fashionable  circles. 
This  number  of  the  paper  contained  a  long  description  of  the 
President's  drawing  room  of  the  preceding  evening.  And  as 
Claudia  read  it,  she  smiled  and  broke  in  silvery  laughter. 

Everyone  looked  up. 

"  "What  is  it,  my  dear  ? "  inquired  the  judge. 

"  Let  us  have  it,  Claudia,"  said  Mr,  Middleton. 

"  Oh,  papa !  oh,  uncle !  I  really  cannot  read  it  out — it  is  too 
absurd !  Is  there  no  way,  I  wonder,  of  stopping  these  reporters 
from  giving  their  auction-book  schedule  of  one's  height,  figure, 
complexion,  and  all  that?  Here,  Bee — you  read  it,  my  dear," 
said  Claudia,  handing  it  to  her  cousin. 

Bee  took  the  paper  and  cast  her  eyes  over  the  article  in  ques- 
tion; but  as  she  did  so  her  cheek  crimsoned  with  blushes,  and 
she  laid  the  paper  down. 

"  Read  it,  Bee,"  said  Claudia. 

"  I  cannot,"   answered  Beatrice  coldly. 

"Why  not?" 

"It  makes  my  eyes  burn  even  to  see  it!  Oh,  Claudia,  how 
dare  they  take  such  liberties  with  your  name?" 

"  Why,  every  word  of  it  is  praise — high  praise." 

"  It  is  fulsome,  offensive  flattery." 

"  Oh,  you  jealous  little  imp !  "  said  Miss  Merlin,  laughing. 

"  Yes,  Claudia,  I  am  jealovis !  not  of  you ;  but  for  you — for 
your  delicacy  and  dignity,"  said  Beatrice  gravely. 


THE   VISCOUNT   VINCENT.  425 

"And  you  think,  then,  I  have  been  wronged  by  this  public 
notice?"  inquired  the  heiress,  half  wounded  and  half  offended 
by  the  words  of  her  cousin. 

"I  do,"  answered  Beatrice  gravely. 

"As  if  I  cared!  Queens  of  society,  like  other  sovereigns, 
must  be  so  taxed  for  their  popularity,  Miss  Middleton !  "  said 
Claudia,  half  laughingly  and  half  defiantly. 

Bee  made  no  reply. 

But  Mr.  Middleton  extended  his  hand,  saying: 

"  Give  me  the  paper.  Claudia  is  a  little  too  independent,  and 
Bee  a  little  too  fastidious,  for  either  to  be  a  fair  judge  of  what 
is  right  and  proper  in  this  matter ;  so  we  will  see  for  ourselves." 

Judge  Merlin  nodded  assent. 

Mr.  Middleton  read  the  article  aloud.  It  was  really  a  very 
lively  description  of  the  President's  evening  reception — inter- 
esting to  those  who  had  not  been  present ;  more  interesting  to 
those  who  had;  and  most  interesting  of  all  to  those  who 
found  themselves  favorably  noticed.  To  the  last-mentioned 
the  notice  was  fame — for  a  day.  The  article  was  two  or  three 
columns  in  length;  but  we  will  quote  only  a  few  lines.  One 
paragraph  said: 

"  Among  the  distinguished  guests  present  was  the  young 
Viscount  Vincent,  eldest  son  and  heir  of  the  earl  of  Hurstmon- 
ceux  and  Banff.     He  was  presented  by  the  British  minister." 

Another  paragraph  alluded  to  Claudia  in  these  terms : 

"  The  belle  of  the  evening,  beyond  all  competition,  was  the 
beautiful  Miss  M — n,  only  daughter  and  heiress  of  Judge  M — n, 
of  the  Supreme  Court.  It  will  be  remembered  that  the  blood 
of  Pocahontas  runs  in  this  yoimg  beauty's  veins,  giving  luster 
to  her  raven  black  hair,  light  to  her  dusky  eyes,  fire  to  her 
brown  cheeks,  and  majesty  and  grace  to  all  her  movements.  She 
is  truly  an  Indian  princess." 

"  Well !  "  said  Mr.  Middleton,  laying  down  the  paper,  "  I 
agree  with  Bee.  It  is  really  too  bad  to  be  trotted  out  in  this 
way,  and  have  all  your  points  indicated,  and  then  be  dubbed 
with  a  fancy  name  besides.  Why,  Miss  Merlin,  they  will  csll 
you  the  '  Indian  Princess '  to  the  end  of  time,  or  of  your  Wash- 
ington campaign." 


426      ishmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

Claudia  tossed  her  head. 

"  What  odds  ? "  she  asked.  "  I  am  rather  proud  to  be  of  the 
royal  lineage  of  Powhatan.  They  may  call  me  Indian  prin- 
cess, if  they  like.    I  will  accept  the  title." 

"  Until  you  get  a  more  legitimate  one !  "  laughed  Mr.  Middle- 
ton. 

"  Until  I  get  a  more  legitimate  one,"  assented  Claudia. 

"  But  I  will  see  McQuill,  the  reporter  of  the  '  Journal,'  and 
ask  him  as  a  particular  favor  to  leave  my  daughter's  name  out 
of  his  next  balloon  full  of  gas ! "  laughed  the  judge,  as  he  arose 
from  the  table. 

The  other  members  of  the  family  followed.  And  each  went 
about  his  or  her  own  particular  business.  This  day  being 
the  next  following  the  first  appearance  of  Miss  Merlin  in  so- 
ciety, was  passed  quietly  in  the  family. 

The  next  day,  being  Sunday,  they  all  attended  church. 

But  on  Monday  a  continual  stream  of  visitors  arrived,  and 
a  great  number  of  cards  were  left  at  Judge  Merlin's  door. 

In  the  course  of  a  week  Claudia  returned  all  these  calls,  and 
thus  she  was  fairly  launched  into  fashionable  life. 

She  received  numerous  invitations  to  dinners,  evening  par- 
ties, and  balls;  but  all  these  she  civilly  excused  herself  from 
attending;  for  it  was  her  whim  to  give  a  large  party  before 
going  to  any.  To  this  end,  she  forced  her  Aunt  Middleton  to 
issue  cards  and  make  preparations  on  a  grand  scale  for  a  very 
magnificent  ball. 

"  It  must  eclipse  everything  else  that  has  been  done,  or  can 
be  done,  this  season ! "  said  Claudia. 

"  Humph !  "  answered  Mrs.  Middleton. 

"  We  must  have  Dureezie's  celebrated  band  for  the  music, 
you  know ! " 

"  My  dear,  he  charges  a  thousand  dollars  a  night  to  leave 
New  York  and  play  for  anyone !  " 

"  Well  ?  what  if  it  were  two  thousand — ten  thousand  ?  I  will 
have  him.    Tell  Ishmael  to  write  to  him  at  once." 

"  Very  well,  my  dear.  You  are  spending  your  own  money, 
remember." 

"  Who  cares  ?  I  will  be  the  only  one  who  engages  Dureezie's 
famous  music.     And,  Aunt  Middleton  ?  " 

"Well,  my  dear?" 

"  Vourienne   must   decorate   the   rooms." 

"  My  dear,  his  charges  are  enormous." 


THE    VISCOUNT   VINCENT.  427 

"  So  is  my  fortune,  Aunt  Middleton,"  laughed  Claudia. 

"  Very  well,"  sighed  the  lady. 

"And— aunt?" 

"Yes,  dear?" 

"  Devizac  must  supply  the  supper." 

"  Claudia,  you  are  mad !  Everything  that  man  touches  turns 
to  gold — for  his  own  pocket." 

Claudia  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  Aunt,  what  do  I  care  for  all  that.  I  can  afford  it.  As  long 
as  he  can  hold  out  to  charge,  I  can  hold  out  to  pay.  I  mean  to 
enjoy  my  fortune,  and  live  while  I  live." 

"  Ah,  my  dear,  wealth  was  given  for  other  purposes  than  the 
enjoyment  of  its  possessor!"  sighed  Mrs.  Middleton. 

"  I  know  it,  aunty.  It  was  given  for  the  advancement  of  its 
possessor.  I  have  another  object  besides  enjoyment  in  view.  I 
say,  aunty ! " 

"Well,  my  child?" 

"  We  must  be  very  careful  whom  we  have  here." 

"  Of  course,  my  dear," 

"  We  must  have  the  best  people." 

"  Certainly." 

"  We  must  invite  the  diplomatic  corps." 

"  By  all  means." 

"  And — all  foreigners  of  distinction,  who  may  be  present 
in  the  city." 

"  Yes,  my  love." 

"  We  must  not  forget  to  invite " 

"Who,  my  dear?" 

"  Lord  Vincent." 

"Humph!    Has  he  called  here?" 

"  He  left  his  card  a  week  ago." 

The  day  succeeding  this  conversation  the  cards  of  invitation 
to  the  Merlin  ball  were  issued. 

And  in  ten  days  the  ball  came  off. 

It  was — as  Miss  Merlin  had  resolved  it  should  be — the  most 
splendid  affair  of  the  kind  that  has  ever  been  seen  in  Washing- 
ton, before  or  since.  It  cost  a  small  fortune,  of  course,  but  it 
was  unsurpassed  and  unsurpassable.  Even  to  this  day  it  is  re- 
membered as  the  great  ball.  As  Claudia  had  determined, 
Vourienne  superintended  the  decorations  of  the  reception, 
dancing,  and  supper  rooms;  Devizac  furnished  the  refreshment, 
and  Dureezie  the  music.     The  elite  of  the  city  were  present. 


428      ishmael;  ok,  ln"  the  depths. 

The  guests  began  to  assemble  at  ten  o'clock,  and  by  eleven  the 
rooms  were  crowded. 

Among  the  guests  was  he  for  whom  all  this  pageantry  had 
been  got  up — the  Viscount  Vincent. 

With  excellent  taste,  Claudia  had  on  this  occasion  avoided 
display  in  her  own  personal  appointments.  She  wore  a  snow- 
white,  mist-like  tulle  over  white  glace  silk,  that  floated  cloud- 
like around  her  with  every  movement  of  her  graceful  form. 
She  wore  no  jewelry,  but  upon  her  head  a  simple  withe  of  the 
cypress  vine,  whose  green  leaves  and  crimson  buds  contrasted 
well  with  her  raven  black  hair.  Yet  never  in  all  the  splendor 
of  her  richest  dress  and  rarest  jewels  had  she  looked  more  beau- 
tiful. The  same  good  taste  that  governed  her  unassuming 
toilet  withheld  her  from  taking  any  prominent  part  in  the 
festivities  of  the  evening.  She  was  courteous  to  all,  solicitous 
for  the  comfort  of  her  guests,  yet  not  too  officious.  As  if  only 
to  do  honor  to  the  most  distinguished  stranger  present,  she 
danced  with  the  Viscount  Vincent  once ;  and  after  that  declined 
all  invitations  to  the  floor.  ISTor  did  Lord  Vincent  dance  again. 
He  seemed  to  prefer  to  devote  himself  to  his  lovely  young 
hostess  for  the  evening.  The  viscount  was  the  lion  of  the  party, 
and  his  exclusive  attention  to  the  young  heiress  could  not  es- 
cape observation.  Everyone  noticed  and  commented  upon  it. 
l^or  was  Claudia  insensible  to  the  honor  of  being  the  object  of 
this  exclusive  devotion  from  his  lordship.  She  was  flattered, 
and  when  Claudia  was  in  this  state  her  beauty  became  radiant. 

Among  those  who  watched  the  incipient  flirtation  commenc- 
ing between  the  viscount  and  the  heiress  was  Beatrice  Middle- 
Ion.  She  had  come  late.  She  had  had  all  the  children  to  see 
properly  fed  and  put  to  bed  before  she  could  begin  to  dress 
herself.  And  one  restless  little  brother  had  kept  her  by  his  crib 
singing  songs  and  telling  stories  until  ten  o'clock  before  he 
finally  dropped  off  to  sleep,  and  left  her  at  liberty  to  go  to  her 
room  and  dress  herself  for  the  ball.  Her  dress  was  simplicity 
itself — a  plain  white  tarletan  with  white  ribbons;  but  it  well 
became  the  angelic  purity  of  her  type  of  beauty.  Her  golden 
ringlets  and  sapphire  eyes  were  the  only  jewels  she  wore,  the 
roses  on  her  cheeks  the  only  flowers.  When  she  entei'ed  the 
dancing  room  she  saw  four  quadrilles  in  active  progress  on  the 
floor;  and  about  four  hundred  spectators  crowded  along  the 
walls,  some  sitting,  some  standing,  some  reclining,  and  some 
grouped.    She  passed  on,  greeting  courteously  those  with  whom 


THE   VISCOUNT   VINCENT.  429 

she  had  a  speaking  acquaintance,  smiling  kindly  upon  others, 
and  observing  all.  In  this  way  she  reached  the  group  of  which 
Claudia  Merlin  and  Lord  Vincent  formed  the  center.  A  cur- 
sory glance  showed  her  that  one  for  whom  she  looked  was  not 
among  them.  With  a  bow  and  a  smile  to  the  group  she  turned 
away  and  went  up  to  where  Judge  Merlin  stood  for  the  mo- 
ment alone. 

"  Uncle,"  she  said,  in  a  tone  slightly  reproachful,  "  is  not 
Ishmael  to  be  with  us  this  evening  ? " 

"  My  dear,  I  invited  him  to  join  us,  but  he  excused  himself." 

"  Of  course,  naturally  he  would  do  so  at  first,  thinking  doubt- 
less that  you  asked  him  as  a  mere  matter  of  form.  Uncle,  con- 
sidering his  position,  you  ought  to  have  pressed  him  to  come. 
You  ought  not  to  have  permitted  him  to  excuse  himself,  if  you 
really  were  in  earnest  with  your  invitation.  Were  you  in  ear- 
nest, sir  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course  I  was,  my  dear !  Why  shouldn't  I  have 
been  ?  I  should  have  been  really  glad  to  see  the  young  man  here 
enjoying  himself  this  evening." 

"  Have  I  your  authority  for  saying  so  much  to  Ishmael,  even 
now,  uncle  ? "  inquired  Bee  eagerly. 

"  Certainly,  my  love.  Go  and  oust  him  from  his  den.  Bring 
him  down  here,  if  you  like — and  if  you  can,"  said  the  judge 
cheerily. 

Bee  left  him,  glided  like  a  spirit  through  the  crowd,  passed 
from  the  room  and  went  upstairs,  flight  after  flight,  until  she 
reached  the  third  floor,  and  rapped  at  Ishmael's  door. 

"  Come  in,"  said  the  rich,  deep,  sweet  voice — always  sweet 
in  its  tones,  whether  addressing  man,  woman,  or  child — human 
being  or  bumb  brute;  "  come  in." 

Bee  entered  the  little  chamber,  so  dark  after  the  lighted 
rooms  below. 

In  the  recess  of  the  dormer  window,  at  a  small  table  lighted 
by  one  candle,  sat  Ishmael,  bending  over  an  open  volume.  His 
cheek  was  pale,  his  expression  weary.  He  looked  up,  and  recog- 
nizing Bee,  arose  with  a  smile  to  meet  her. 

"  How  dark  you  are  up  here,  all  alone,  Ishmael,"  she  said, 
coming  forward. 

Ishmael  snuffed  his  candle,  picked  the  wick,  and  sat  it  up  on 
his  pile  of  books  that  it  might  give  a  better  light,  and  then 
turned  again  smilingly  towards  Bee,  offered  her  a  chair  and 
Stood  as  if  waiting  her  commands. 


430  ishmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

"  What  are  you  doing  up  here  alone,  Ishmael  ? "  she  inquired, 
■with  her  hand  upon  the  back  of  the  chair  that  she  omitted  to 
take. 

"  I  am  studying  '  Kent's  Commentaries/'  "  answered  the  young 
man. 

"  I  wish  you  would  study  your  own  health  a  little  more,  Ish- 
mael !    Why  are  you  not  down  with  us  ?  " 

"  My  dear  Bee,  I  am  better  here." 

"  Nonsense,  Ishmael !  You  are  here  too  much.  You  confine 
yourself  too  closely  to  study.  You  should  remember  the  plain 
old  proverb — proverbs  are  the  wisdom  of  nations,  you  know — 
the  old  proverb  which  says :  *  All  work  and  no  play  makes  Jack 
a  dull  boy.'    Come !  " 

"  My  dear  friend,  Bee,  you  must  excuse  me." 

"  But  I  will  not." 

"  Bee " 

"I  insist  upon  your  coming,  Ishmael." 

"  Bee,  do  not.  I  should  be  the  wrong  man  in  the  wrong 
place." 

"  !N"ow,  why  do  you  say  that  ? " 

"  Because  I  have  no  business  in  a  ballroom.  Bee." 

"  You  have  as  much  business  there  as  anyone  else." 

"  What  should  I  do  there,  Bee  ?  " 

"  Dance !  waltz !  polka !  At  our  school  balls  you  were  one 
of  the  best  dancers  we  had,  I  recollect.  Now,  with  your  mem- 
ory and  your  ear  for  music,  you  would  do  as  well  as  then." 

"  But  who  would  dance  with  me  in  Washington,  dear  Bee  ? 
I  am  a  total  stranger  to  everyone  out  of  this  family.  And  I 
have  no  right  to  ask  an  introduction  to  any  of  the  belles,"  said 
Ishmael. 

"  I  will  dance  with  you,  Ishmael,  to  begin  with,  if  you  will 
accept  me  as  a  partner.  And  I  do  not  think  you  will  venture 
to  refuse  your  little  adopted  sister  and  old  playmate.  Come, 
Ishmael." 

"Dearest  little  sister,  do  you  know  that  I  declined  Judge 
Merlin's  invitation  ? " 

"Yes;  he  told  me  so,  and  sent  me  here  to  say  to  you,  that 
he  will  not  excuse  you,  that  he  insists  upon  your  coming.  Come, 
Ishmael ! " 

"  Dear  Bee,  you  constrain  me.  I  will  come.  Yes,  I  con- 
fess I  am  glad  to  be  '  constrained.'  Sometimes,  dear,  we  require 
to  be  compelled  to  do  as  we  like;  or,  in  other  words,  our  con- 


ISHMAEL    AT   THE    BALL.  431 

sciences  require  just  excuses  for  yielding  certain  points  to  our 
inclinations.  I  have  been  secretly  wishing  to  be  with  you  all 
the  evening.  The  distant  somid  of  the  music  has  been  alluring 
me  very  persuasively.  (That  is  a  magnificent  band  of  Du- 
reezie's,  by  the  way.)  I  have  been  longing  to  join  the  festivi- 
ties. And  I  am  glad,  my  little  liege  lady,  that  you  lay  your 
royal  commands  on  me  to  do  so." 

"  That  is  right,  Ishmael.  I  must  say  that  you  yield  grace- 
fully. Well,  I  will  leave  you  now  to  prepare  your  toilet.  And 
—Ishmael?" 

"Yes,  Bee?" 

"  Ring  for  more  light !  You  will  never  be  able  to  render  your- 
self irresistible  with  the  aid  of  a  single  candle  on  one  side  of 
your  glass,"  said  Bee,  as  she  made  her  laughing  exit. 

Ishmael  followed  her  advice  in  every  particular,  and  soon 
made  himself  ready  to  appear  in  the  ball.  When  just  about  to 
leave  the  room  he  thought  of  his  gloves,  and  doubted  whether 
he  had  a  pair  for  drawing-room  use.  Then  suddenly  he  recol- 
lected Bee's  Christmas  present  that  he  had  laid  away  as  some- 
thing too  sacred  for  use.  He  went  and  took  from  the  parcel  the 
straw-colored  kid  gloves  she  had  given  him,  and  drew  them  on 
as  he  descended  the  stairs,  whispering  to  himself : 

"  Even  for  these  I  am  indebted  to  her — ^may  Heaven  bless 
her!" 

CHAPTER  LIV. 

ISHMAEL  AT  THE  BALL. 

Tes!  welcome,  right  welcome — and  give  us  yoxir  hand, 

Yon  shall  not  stand  "out  in  the  cold  "  ! 
If  new  friends  are  true  friends,  I  can't  understand 

Why  hearts  should  hold  out,  till  they're  old  ; 
Then  come  with  all  welcome  and  fear  not  to  tiing 

Keserve  to  the  winds  and  the  waves, 
For  thou  never  canst  live,  the  cold-blooded  thing 

Society  makes  of  its  slaves. 

—M.  F.  Tupper. 

A  very  handsome  young  fellow  was  Ishmael  Worth  as  he  en- 
tered the  drawing  room  that  evening.  He  had  attained  his 
full  height,  over  six  feet,  and  he  had  grown  broad-shouldered 
and  full-chested,  with  the  prospect  of  becoming  the  athletic 
man  of  majestic  presence  that  he  appeared  in  riper  years.  His 
iiair  and  eyes  were  growing  much  darker;  you  might  now  call 


432  ISHMAEI  ;    OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

the  first  dark  brown  and  the  last  dark  gray.  His  face  was 
somewhat  fuller;  but  his  forehead  was  still  high,  broad,  and 
massive,  and  the  line  of  his  profile  was  clear-cut,  distinct,  and 
classic;  his  lips  were  full  and  beautifully  curved;  and,  to  sum 
tip,  he  still  retained  the  peculiar  charm  of  his  countenance — ■ 
the  habit  of  smiling  only  with  his  eyes.  How  intense  is  the 
light  of  p  smile  that  is  confined  to  the  eyes  only.  His  dress  is 
not  worth  notice.  All  gentlemen  dress  alike  for  evening 
parties;  all  wear  the  sterotyped  black  dress  coat,  light  kid 
gloves,  etc.,  etc.,  etc.,  and  he  wore  the  uniform  for  such  cases 
made  and  provided.  Only  everything  that  Ishmael  put  on 
looked  like  the  costume  of  a  prince. 

He  entered  the  lighted  and  crowded  drawing  room  very  hesi- 
tatingly, looking  over  that  splendid  but  confused  assemblage 
until  he  caught  the  eye  of  Judge  Merlin,  who  immediately  came 
forward  to  meet  him,  saying  in  a  low  tone : 

"  I  am  glad  you  changed  your  mind  and  decided  to  come 
down.  You  must  become  acquainted  with  some  of  my  ac- 
quaintances. You  must  make  friends,  Ishmael,  as  well  as 
gain  knowledge,  if  you  would  advance  yourself.     Come  along !  " 

And  the  judge  led  him  into  the  thick  of  the  crowd. 

Little  more  than  a  year  before  the  judge  had  said,  in  speak- 
ing of  Ishmael :  "  Of  course,  owing  to  the  circumstances  of  his 
birth,  he  never  can  hope  to  attain  the  position  of  a  gentleman, 
never."  But  the  judge  had  forgotten  all  about  that  now. 
People  usually  did  forget  Ishmael's  humble  origin  in  his 
exalted  presence.  I  use  the  word  "  exalted  "  with  truth,  as  it 
applied  to  his  air  and  manner.  The  judge  certainly  forgot 
that  Ishmael  was  not  Society's  gentleman  as  well  as  "  nature's 
nobleman,"  when,  taking  him  through  the  crowd,  he  said : 

"  I  shall  introduce  you  to  some  young  ladies.  The  first  one 
I  present  you  to  will  be  Miss  Tourneysee,  the  daughter  of  Gen- 
eral Tourneysee.  You  must  immediately  ask  her  to  dance; 
etiquette  will  require  you  to  do  so." 

"  But,'*  smiled  Ishmael,  "  I  am  already  engaged  to  dance  the 
next  set  with  Bee." 

"  You  verdant  youth.  So,  probably,  is  she — Miss  Tourneysee, 
I  mean — engaged  ten  sets  deep.  Ask  her  for  the  honor  of  her 
hand  as  soon  as  she  is  disengaged,"  replied  the  judge,  who 
straightway  led  Ishmael  up  to  a  very  pretty  young  girl,  in 
blue  crepe,  to  whom  he  presented  the  young  man  in  due  fona. 

Ishmael  bowed  and  proffered  his  petition. 


ISHMAEL    AT    THE   BALL.  433 

The  case  was  not  so  hopeless  as  the  judge  had  represented  it 
to  be.  Miss  Tourneysee  was  engaged  for  the  next  three  sets, 
but  would  be  happy  to  dance  the  fourth  with  Mr.  Worth. 

At  that  moment  the  partner  to  whom  she  was  engaged  for 
the  quadrille,  then  forming,  came  up  to  claim  her  hand,  and 
she  arose  and  slightly  courtesied  to  Judge  Merlin  and  Ishmael 
Worth,  and  walked  away  with  her  companion. 

Ishmael  looked  around  for  his  own  lovely  partner,  and  Bee,, 
smiling  at  a  little  distance,  caught  his  eye.  He  bowed  to  Judge 
Merlin  and  went  up  to  her  and  led  her  to  the  head  of  one  of 
the  sets  about  to  be  formed. 

In  the  meantime,  "  Who  is  he  ? "  whispered  many  voices, 
while  many  eyes  followed  the  stranger  who  had  come  among- 
them. 

Among  those  who  observed  the  entrance  of  Ishmael  was 
the  Viscount  Vincent.  Half  bending,  in  an  elegant  attitude, 
with  his  white-gloved  hand  upon  the  arm  of  the  sofa  where 
Miss  Merlin  reclined,  he  watched  the  stranger.  Presently  he 
said  to  her: 

"  Excuse  me,  but — ^who  is  that  very  distinguished-looking 
individual  ? " 

"  Who  ? "  inquired  Claudia.  She  had  not  noticed  the  en- 
trance of  Ishmael. 

"  He  who  just  now  came  in  the  room — ^with  Judge  Merlin, 
I  think.  There,  he  is  now  standing  up,  with  that  pretty  little 
creature  in  white  with  the  golden  ringlets." 

"  Oh,"  said  Claudia,  following  his  glance.  "  That  '  pretty 
little  creature '  is  my  cousin.  Miss  Middleton." 

"  I  beg  ten  thousand  pardons,"  said  Vincent. 

"  And  her  partner,"   continued   Claudia,  "  is  Mr.  Worth,  a 

Tery  promising  young "     She  could  not  say  gentleman;  she 

would  not  say  man;  so  she  hesitated  a  little  while,  and  thert 
said :  "  He  is  a  very  talented  young  law  student  with  my  papa.'* 

"  Ah !  do  you  know  that  at  first  I  really  took  him  for  an  old 
friend  of  mine,  an  American  gentleman  from — Maryland,  I 
believe." 

"  Mr.  Worth  is  from  Maryland,"  said  Claudia. 

"  Then  he  is  probably  a  relative  of  the  gentleman  in  question. 
The  likeness  is  so  very  striking;  indeed,  if  it  were  not  that  Mr. 
— Worth,  did  you  say  his  name  was? — is  a  rather  larger  man, 
I  should  take  him  to  be  Mr.  Brudenell.  I  wonder  whether  they 
are  related  ? " 


434  ISHMAEL ;    OK,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

"I  do  not  know,"  said  Claudia.  And  of  course  she  did  not 
know;  but  notwithstanding  that,  the  hot  blood  rushed  up  to 
her  face,  flushing  it  with  a  deep  blush,  for  she  remembered  the 
fatal  words  that  had  forever  affected  Ishmael  in  her  estimation. 
"  His  mother  was  never  married,  and  no  one  on  earth  knows 
who  his  father  was." 

The  viscount  looked  at  her;  he  was  a  man  accustomed  to  read 
much  in  little;  but  not  always  aright;  he  read  a  great  deal  in 
Claudia's  deep  blush  and  short  reply;  but  not  the  whole;  he 
read  that  Claudia  Merlin,  the  rich  heiress,  loved  her  father's 
poor  young  law  student ;  but  no  more ;  and  he  resolved  to  make 
the  acquaintance  of  the  young  fellow,  who  must  be  related  to 
the  Brudenells,  he  thought,  so  as  to  see  for  himself  what  there 
was  in  him,  beside  his  handsome  person,  to  attract  the  admira- 
tion of  Chief  Justice  Merlin's  beautiful  daughter. 

"  He  dances  well ;  he  carries  himself  like  my  friend  Herman, 
also.  I  fancy  they  must  be  nearly  related,"  he  continued,  as 
he  watched  Ishmael  going  through  the  quadrille. 

"I  am  unable  to  inform  you  whether  he  is  or  not,"  an- 
swered Claudia. 

While  they  talked,  the  dance  went  on.  Presently  it  was 
ended. 

"  You  must  come  up,  now,  and  speak  to  Claudia,  She  is  the 
queen  of  the  evening,  you  know ! "  said  Ishmael's  gentle 
partner. 

"  I  know  it,  dear  Bee ;  and  I  am  going  to  pay  my  respects ; 
but  let  me  find  you  a  seat  first,"  replied  the  young  man. 

"  No,  I  will  go  with  you ;  I  have  not  yet  spoken  to  Claudia 
this  evening,"  said  Bee. 

Ishmael  offered  his  arm  and  escorted  her  across  the  room  to 
the  sofa  that  was  doing  duty  as  throne  for  "  the  queen  of  the 
evening." 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you  looking  so  well.  Bee !  Mr.  Worth,  1 
hope  you  are  enjoying  yourself,"  was  the  greeting  of  Miss  Mer* 
lin,  as  they  came  up. 

Then  turning  towards  the  viscount,  she  said : 

"Beatrice,  my  dear,  permit  me — Lord  Vincent,  my  cousin. 
Miss  Middleton." 

A  low  bow  from  the  gentleman,  a  slight  courtesy  from  the 
lady,  and  that  was  over. 

"Lord  Vincent — Mr.  Worth,"  said  Claudia. 

Two   distant  bows  acknowledged  this  introduction — so  dis- 


ISIIMAEL    AT   THE    BALL.  435 

tant  that  Claudia  felt  herself  called  upon  to  mediate,  which  she 
did  by  saying: 

"  Mr.  Worth,  Lord  Vincent  has  been  particularly  interested 
in  you,  ever  since  you  entered  the  room.  He  finds  a  striking 
resemblance  between  yourself  and  a  very  old  friend  of  his  own, 
who  is  also  from  your  native  county." 

Ishmael  looked  interested,  and  his  smiling  eyes  turned  from 
Claudia  to  Lord  Vincent  in  good-humored  inquiry. 

"  I  allude  to  Mr.  Herman  Brudenell  of  Brudenell  Hall, 
Maryland,  who  has  been  living  in  England  lately.  There  is  a 
very  striking  likeness  between  him  and  yourself;  so  striking 
that  I  might  have  mistaken  one  for  the  other ;  but  that  you  are 
larger,  and,  now  that  I  see  you  closely,  darker,  than  he  is. 
Perhaps  you  are  relatives,"  said  Lord  Vincent. 

"Oh,  no;  not  at  all;  not  the  most  distant.  I  am  not  even 
acquainted  with  the  gentleman;  never  set  eyes  on  him  in  my 
life ! "  said  Ishmael,  smiling  ingenuously ;  for  of  course  he 
thought  he  was  speaking  the  exact  truth. 

But  oh,  Herman !  oh,  Nora !  if  he  from  the  nethermost  parts 
of  the  earth — if  she  from  the  highest  heaven  could  have  heard 
that  honest  denial  of  his-  parentage  from  the  truthful  lips  of 
their  gifted  son ! 

"  There  is  something  incomprehensible  in  the  caprices  of 
nature,  in  making  people  who  are  in  no  way  related  so  strongly 
resemble  each  other,"  said  Lord  Vincent. 

"  There  is,"  admitted  Ishmael. 

At  this  moment  the  music  ceased,  the  dancers  left  the  floor, 
and  there  was  a  considerable  movement  of  the  company  toward 
the  back  of  the  room. 

"  I  think  they  are  going  to  supper.  Will  you  permit  me  to 
take  you  in.  Miss  Merlin  ? "  said  Lord  Vincent,  offering  his 
arm. 

"  If  you  please,"  said  Claudia,  rising  to  take  it. 

"  Shall  I  have  the  honor,  dear  Bee  ?  "  inquired  Ishmael. 

Beatrice  answered  by  putting  her  hand  within  Ishmael'a 
arm.  And  they  followed  the  company  to  the  supper  room — 
scene  of  splendor,  magnificence,  and  luxury  that  baffles  all  de- 
scription, except  that  of  the  reporter  of  the  "  Republican  Court 
Journal,"  who,  in  speaking  of  the  supper,  said : 

"  In  all  his  former  efforts,  it  was  granted  by  everyone,  that 
Devizac  surpassed  all  others ;  but  in  this  supper  at  Judge  Mer- 
lin's, Devizac  surpassed  himseK ! " 


436      ishmael;  or,  es"  the  depths. 

After  supper  Ishmael  danced  the  last  quadrille  with  Miss 
Tourneysee;  and  when  that  was  over,  the  time-honored  old 
contra-dance  of  Sir  Roger  de  Coverly  was  called,  in  which 
nearly  all  the  company  took  part — Ishmael  dancing  with  a 
daughter  of  a  distinguished  senator,  and  a  certain  Captain 
Todd  dancing  with  Bee. 

When  the  last  dance  was  over,  the  hour  being  two  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  the  party  separated,  well  pleased  with  their 
evening's  entertainment.  Ishmael  went  up  to  his  den,  and  re- 
tired to  bed:  but  ah!  not  to  repose.  The  unusual  excitement 
of  the  evening,  the  light,  the  splendor,  the  luxury,  the  guests, 
and  among  them  all  the  figures  of  Claudia  and  the  viscount, 
haunting  memory  and  stimulating  imagination,  forbade  repose. 
Ever,  in  the  midst  of  all  his  busy,  useful,  aspiring  life  he  was 
conscious,  deep  in  his  heart,  of  a  gnawing  anguish,  whose  name 
was  Claudia  Merlin.  To-night  this  deep-seated  anguish  tor- 
tured him  like  the  vulture  of  Prometheus.  One  vivid  picture 
was  always  before  his  mind's  eye — the  sofa,  with  the  beautiful 
figure  of  Claudia  reclining  upon  it,  and  the  stately  form  of 
the  viscount,  leaning  with  deferential  admiration  over  her. 
The  viscount's  admiration  of  the  beauty  was  patent ;  he  did  not 
attempt  to  conceal  it.  Claudia's  pride  and  pleasure  in  her  con- 
quest were  also  undeniable;  she  took  no  pains  to  veil  them. 

And  for  this  cause  Ishmael  could  not  sleep,  but  lay  battling 
all  night  with  his  agony.  He  arose  the  next  morning  pale  and 
ill,  from  the  restless  bed  and  wretched  night,  but  fully  resolved 
to  struggle  with  and  conquer  his  hopeless  love. 

"I  must  not,  I  will  not,  let  this  passion  enervate  me !  I  have 
work  to  do  in  this  world,  and  I  must  do  it  with  all  my 
strength !  "  he  said  to  himself,  as  he  went  into  the  library. 

Ishmael  had  gradually  passed  upward  from  his  humble  po- 
sition of  amanuensis  to  be  the  legal  assistant  and  almost  part- 
ner of  the  judge  in  his  office  business.  In  fact,  Ishmael  was  his 
partner  in  everything  except  a  share  in  the  profits;  he  received 
none  of  them;  he  still  worked  for  his  small  salary  as  amanuen- 
sis; not  that  the  judge  willfully  availed  himself  of  the  young 
m.an's  valuable  assistance  without  giving  him  due  remunera- 
tion, but  the  change  in  Ishmael's  relations  to  his  employer  had 
come  on  so  naturally  and  gradually,  that  at  no  one  time  had 
thought  of  raising  the  young  man's  salary  to  the  same  elevation 
of  his  position  and  services  occurred  to  Judge  Merlin. 

It  was  ever  by  measuring  himself  with  others  that  Ishmael 


A    STEP   IIIGIIER.  437 

proved  his  own  relative  proportion  of  intellect,  knowledge,  and 
power.  He  had  been  diligently  studying  law  for  more  than  two 
years.  He  had  been  attending  the  sessions  of  the  courts  of 
law  both  in  the  country  and  in  the  city.  And  he  had  been  the 
confidential  assistant  of  Judge  Merlin  for  many  months. 

In  his  attendance  upon  the  sessions  of  the  circuit  courts  in 
Yv^'ashington,  and  in  listening  to  the  pleadings  of  the  lawyers 
and  the  charges  of  the  judges,  and  watching  the  results  of  the 
trials — he  had  made  this  discovery — namely,  that  he  had  at- 
tained as  fair  a  knowledge  of  law  as  was  possessed  by  many  of 
the  practicing  lawyers  of  these  courts,  and  he  resolved  to  con- 
sult his  employer,  Judge  Merlin,  upon  the  expediency  of  his 
making  application  for  admission  to  practice  at  the  Washing- 
ton bar. 

CHAPTER  LV. 

A  STEP  HIGHER. 

He  will  not  wait  for  chances, 

For  luck  he  does  not  look; 
In  faith  his  Hpirit  glances 

At  Providence,  God's  book; 
And  there  discerning  truly 

That  right  is  might  at  length, 
He  dares  go  forward  duly 

In  quietness  and  strength, 
Untlinchitig  and  unfearing, 

The  flatterer  of  none, 
And  in  good  courage  wearing, 

The  honors  he  has  won. 

— M.  F.  Tupper. 

Ishmael  took  an  early  opportunity  of  speaking  to  the  judge 
of  his  projects.  It  was  one  day  when  they  had  got  through  the 
morning's  work  and  were  seated  in  the  library  together,  en- 
joying a  desultory  chat  before  it  was  time  to  go  to  court,  that 
Ishmael  said : 

"  Judge  Merlin,  I  am  about  to  make  application  to  be  ad- 
mitted to  practice  at  the  Washington  bar." 

The  judge  looked  up  in  surprise. 

"Why,  Ishmael,  you  have  not  graduated  at  any  law  school! 
You  have  not  even  had  one  term  of  instruction  at  any  such 
school.' 

"I  know  that  I  have  not  enjoyed  such  advantages,  sir;  but 
I  have  read  law  very  diligently  for  the  last  three  years,  and  with 


438  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN-   THE   DEPTHS. 

what  memory  and  understanding   I  possess,  I  have  profited 
by  my  reading." 

"  But  that  is  not  like  a  regular  course  of  study  at  a  law 
school." 

"  Perhaps  not,  sir ;  but  in  addition  to  my  reading,  I  have  had 
a  considerable  experience  Vvhile  acting  as  your  clerk." 

"  So  you  have ;  and  you  have  profited  by  all  the  experience 
you  have  gained  while  with  me.  I  have  seen  that;  you  have 
acquitted  yourself  unusually  well,  and  been  of  very  great  ser- 
vice to  me;  but  still  I  insist  that  law-office  business  and  law- 
book knowledge  is  not  everything;  there  is  more  required  to 
make  a  good  lawyer." 

"  I  know  there  is,  sir ;  very  much  more,  and  I  have  taken 
steps  to  acquire  it.  For  nearly  two  years  I  have  regularly  at- 
tended the  sessions  of  the  courts,  both  in  St.  Mary's  county  and 
here  in  the  city,  and  in  that  time  have  learned  something  of 
the  practice  of  law,"  persisted  Ishmael. 

"All  very  well,  so  far  as  it  goes,  young  man;  but  it  would 
have  been  better  if  you  had  graduated  at  some  first-class  law 
school,"  insisted  the  old-fashioned,  conservative  judge. 

"Excuse  me,  sir,  if  I  venture  to  differ  with  you,  so  far  as 
to  say,  that  I  do  not  think  a  degree  absolutely  necessary  to  suc- 
cess; or  indeed  of  much  consequence  one  way  or  the  other," 
modestly  replied  Ishmael. 

The  judge  opened  his  eyes  to  their  widest  extent. 

"  What  reason  have  you  for  such  an  opinion  as  that,  Ish- 
mael ? "  he  inquired. 

"  Observation,  sir.  In  my  attendance  upon  the  sessions  of 
the  courts  I  have  observed  some  gentlemen  of  the  legal  pro- 
fession who  were  graduates  of  distinguished  law  schools,  but 
yet  made  very  poor  barristers.  I  have  noticed  others  who  never 
saw  the  inside  of  a  law  school,  but  yet  made  very  able  bar- 
risters." 

"  But  with  all  this,  you  must  admit  that  the  great  majority 
of  distinguished  lawyers  have  been  graduates  of  first-class  law 
schools." 

"Oh,  yes,  sir;  I  admit  that.  I  admit  also — for  who,  in  his 
senses,  could  deny  them? — the  very  great  advantages  ©f  these 
schools  as  facilities;  I  only  contend  that  they  cannot  insure 
success  to  any  law  student  who  has  nof  talent,  industry,  per- 
severance, and  a  taste  for  the  profession ;  and  that,  to  one  who 
has  all  these  elements  of  success,  a  diploma  from  the  schools 


A    STEP   HIGHER.  439 

is  Dot  necessary.  I  think  it  is  the  same  in  every  branch  of  hu- 
man usefulness.  Look  at  the  science  of  war.  Remember  the 
Eevolutionary  times.  Were  the  great  generals  of  that  epoch 
graduates  of  any  military  academy?  No,  they  came  from  the 
l-iow,  the  workshop,  and  the  counting  house.  No  doubt  it  would 
have  been  highly  advantageous  to  them  had  they  been  gradu- 
ates of  some  first-class  military  academy;  I  only  say  it  was 
found  not  to  be  absolutely  necessary  to  their  success  as  great 
generals;  and  in  our  later  wars,  we  have  not  found  the  gradu- 
ates of  West  Point,  who  had  a  great  theoretic  knowledge  of  the 
science  of  war,  more  successful  in  action  than  the  volunteers, 
vrhose  only  school  was  actual  practice  in  the  field.  And  look 
at  our  Senate  and  House  of  Representatives,  sir;  are  the  most 
distinguished  statesmen  there  graduates  of  colleges?  Quite 
the  reverse.  I  do  not  wish  to  be  so  irreverent  as  to  disparage 
schools  and  colleges,  sir,  I  only  wish  to  be  so  just  as  to  exalt 
talent,  industry,  and  perseverance  to  their  proper  level,"  said 
Ishmael  warmly. 

"  Special  pleading,  my  boy,"  said  the  judge. 

Ishmael  blushed,  laughed,  and  replied : 

"Yes,  sir,  I  acknowledge  that  it  is  very  special  pleading.  I 
have  made  up  my  mind  to  be  a  candidate  for  admission  to  the 
Washington  bar;  and  having  done  so,  I  would  like  to  get  your 
approbation." 

"  What  do  you  want  with  my  approbation,  boy  ?  With  or 
without  it,  you  will  get  on." 

"  But  more  pleasantly  with  it,  sir,"  smiled  Ishmael. 

"  Very  well,  very  well ;  take  it  then.  Go  ahead.  I  wish  you 
success.  But  what  is  the  use  of  telling  you  to  go  ahead,  when 
you  will  go  ahead  anyhow,  in  spite  of  fate?  Or  why  should 
T  wish  you  success,  when  I  know  you  will  command  success? 
Ah,  Ishmael,  you  can  do  without  me;  but  how  shall  I  ever  be 
able  to  do  without  you  ?  "  inquired  the  judge,  with  an  odd  ex- 
pression between  a  smile  and  a  sigh. 

"  My  friend  and  patron,  I  must  be  admitted  to  practice  at 
the  Washington  bar;  but  I  will  not  upon  that  account  leave 
your  service  while  I  can  be  of  use  to  you,"  said  Ishmael,  with 
earnestness;  for  next  to  adoring  Claudia,  he  loved  best  for  her 
sake  to  honor  her  father. 

"  That's  a  good  lad.  Be  sure  you  keep  your  promise,"  said 
the  judge,  smiling,  and  laying  his  hand  caressingly  on  Ish- 
mael's  head. 


440  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

And  then  as  it  was  time  for  the  judge  to  go  to  the  Sup?»Rrn.e 
Court,  he  arose  and  departed,  leaving  Ishmael  to  write  out 
u  number  of  legal  documents. 

Ishmael  lost  no  time  in  carrying  his  resolution  into  effect. 
He  passed  a  very  successful  examination  and  was  duly  ad- 
mitted to  practice  in  the  Washington  courts  of  law. 

A  few  evenings  after  this,  as  Ishmael  was  still  busy  in  the 
little  library,  trying  to  finish  a  certain  task  before  the  last 
beams  of  the  sun  had  faded  away,  the  judge  entered,  smiling, 
holding  in  his  hand  a  formidable-looking  document  and  a  hajid" 
ful  of  gold  coin. 

"  There,  Ishmael,"  he  said,  laying  the  document  and  the  gold 
on  the  table  before  the  young  man;  "there  is  your  first  brief 
and  your  first  fee !  Let  me  tell  you  it  is  a  very  unusual  wind- 
fall for  an  unfledged  lawyer  like  you." 

"  I  suppose  I  owe  this  to  yourself,  sir,"  said  Ishmael. 
"  You  owe  it  to  your  own  merits,  my  lad !  I  will  tell  you  all 
about  it.  To-day  I  met  in  the  court  an  old  acquaintance  of 
mine — Mr.  Ralph  Walsh.  He  has  been  separated  from  his  wife 
for  some  time  past,  living  in  the  South;  but  he  has  recently  re- 
turned to  the  city,  and  has  sought  a  reconciliation  with  her, 
which,  for  some  reason  or  other,  she  has  refused.  He  next 
tried  to  get  possession  of  their  children,  in  order  to  coerce  her 
through  her  affection  for  them;  but  she  suspected  his  design. 
and  frustrated  it  by  removing  the  children  to  a  place  of  se- 
crecy. All  this  Walsh  told  me  this  morning  in  the  court,  where 
he  had  come  to  get  the  habeas  corpus  served  upon  the  woman 
ordering  her  to  produce  the  children  in  court.  It  will  be 
granted,  of  course,  and  he  will  sue  for  the  possession  of  the 
children,  and  his  wife  will  contest  the  suit;  she  will  contest  it 
in  vain,  of  course,  for  the  law  always  gives  the  father  possession 
of  the  children,  unless  he  is  morally,  mentally,  or  physically  in- 
capable of  taking  care  of  them — which  is  not  the  case  with 
Walsh;  he  is  sound  in  mind,  body,  and  reputation;  there  is 
nothing  to  be  said  against  him  in  either  respect." 

"  What,  then,  divided  him  from  his  family  ? "  inquired  Ish- 
mael doubtfully. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know;  he  had  a  wandering  turn  of  mind,  and 
loved  to  travel  a  great  deal;  he  has  been  all  over  the  civilized 
and  uncivilized  world,  too,  I  believe." 

"  And  what  did  she  do,  in  the  meantime  ?  "  inquired  Ishmael, 
still  more  doubtfully. 


A   STEP   IIIGHEK.  44? 

**  She  ?     Oh,  she  kept  a  little  day-school." 

*'  What,  was  that  necessary  ?  " 

*'  I  suppose  so,  else  she  would  not  have  kept  it." 

"  But  did  not  he  contribute  to  the  support  of  the  family  ?  " 

"  I — don't  know ;  I  fear  not." 

"  There  was  nothing  against  the  wife's  character  ?  " 

"Not  a  breath!  How  should  there  be,  when  she  keeps  a 
respectable  school?  And  when  he  himself  wishes,  in  getting 
possession  of  the  children,  only  to  compel  her  through  her  love 
for  them  to  come  40  him." 

"  Seething  the  kid  in  its  mother's  milk,  or  something  quite 
as  cruel,"  murmured  Ishmael  to  himself. 

The  judge,  who  did  not  know  what  he  was  muttering  to  him- 
self, continued : 

"  Well,  there  is  the  case,  as  Walsh  delivered  it  to  me.  If 
there  is  anything  else  of  importance  connected  with  the  case, 
you  will  doubtless  find  it  in  the  brief.  He  actually  offered  the 
brief  to  me  at  first.  He  has  been  so  long  away  that  he  did  not 
know  my  present  position,  and  that  I  had  long  since  ceased 
to  practice.  So  when  he  met  me  in  the  courtroom  to-day  he 
greeted  me  as  an  old  friend,  told  me  his  business  at  the  court, 
said  that  he  considered  the  meeting  providential,  and  offered 
me  his  brief.  I  explained  to  him  the  impossibility  of  my  tak- 
ing it,  and  then  he  begged  me  to  recommend  some  lawyer.  I 
named  you  to  him  without  hesitation,  giving  you  what  I  con- 
sidered only  your  just  meed  of  praise.  He  immediately  asked 
me  to  take  charge  of  the  brief  and  the  retaining  fee,  and  offer 
both  to  you  in  his  name,  and  say  to  you  that  he  should  call 
early  to-morrow  morning  to  consult  with  you." 

"  I  am  very  grateful  to  you,  Judge  Merlin,  for  your  kind  in- 
terest in  my  welfare,"  said  Ishmael  warmly. 

"Not  at  all,  my  lad;  for  I  owe  you  much,  Ishmael.  You 
have  been  an  invaluable  assistant  to  me.  Doing  a  great  deal 
more  for  me  than  the  letter  of  your  duty  required." 

"  I  do  not  think  so,  sir ;  but  I  am  very  glad  to  have  your  ap- 
probation." 

"  Thank  you,  boy ;  but  now,  Ishmael,  to  business.  You  can- 
not do  better  than  to  take  this  brief.  It  is  the  very  neatest 
little  case  that  ever  a  lawyer  had;  all  the  plain  law  on  your 
side;  a  dash  of  the  sentimental,  too,  in  the  injured  father's 
affection  for  the  children  that  have  been  torn  from  him,  tfee 
injured  husband  for  the  wife  that  repudiates  him.     Now  you 


442  iSHMAEL ;  OE,  nr  the  depths. 

are  good  at  law,  but  you  are  great  at  sentiment,  Ishmael,  and 
between  having  law  on  your  side  and  sentiment  at  your  tongue's 
end,  you  will  be  sure  to  succeed  and  come  off  with  flying  colors. 
And  such  success  in  his  first  case  is  of  the  utmost  importance 
to  a  young  lawyer.  It  is  in  fact  the  making  of  his  fortune. 
You  will  have  a  shower  of  briefs  follow  this  success." 

"  I  do  not  know  that  I  shall  take  the  brief,  sir,"  said  Ishmael 
thoughtfully. 

"  JSTot  take  the  brief  ?  Are  you  mad  ?  Who  ever  heard  of  a 
young  lawyer  refusing  to  take  such  a  brief  as  that? — accom- 
panied by  such  a  retaining  fee  as  that? — the  brief  the  neatest 
and  safest  little  case  that  ever  came  before  a  court !  the  retain- 
ing fee  a  hundred  dollars !  and  no  doubt  he  will  hand  you  double 
that  sum  when  you  get  your  decision — for  whatever  his  for- 
tune has  been  in  times  past,  he  is  rich  now,  this  Walsh ! "  said 
the  judge  vehemently. 

"  Who  is  the  counsel  for  the  other  side  ? "  asked  Ishmael. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha !  there's  where  the  shoe  hurts,  is  it  ?  there's  where 
the  pony  halts?  that's  what's  the  matter?  You  are  afraid  of 
encountering  some  of  the  great  guns  of  the  law,  are  you? 
Don't  be  alarmed.  The  schoolmistress  is  too  poor  to  pay  for 
distinguished  legal  talent.  She  may  get  some  briefless  petti- 
fogger to  appear  for  her;  a  man  set  up  for  you  to  knock  down. 
Your  case  is  just  what  the  first  case  of  a  young  lawyer  should 
be — plain  sailing,  law  distinctly  on  your  side,  dash  of  senti- 
ment, domestic  affections,  and  all  that,  and  certain  success  at 
the  end.     Your  victory  will  be  as  easy  as  it  will  be  complete." 

"Poor  thing!"  murmured  Ishmael;  "too  poor  to  employ 
talent  for  the  defense  of  her  possession  of  her  own  children !  " 

"  Come,  my  lad ;  pocket  your  fee  and  take  up  your  brief," 
said  the  judge. 

"I  would  rather  not,  sir;  I  do  not  like  to  appear  against  a 
"woman — a  mother  defending  her  right  in  her  ovpn  children.  It 
appears  to  me  to  be  cruel  to  wish  to  deprive  her  of  them,"  said 
the  gentle-spirited  young  lawyer. 

"  Cruel ;  it  is  merciful  rather.  'No  one  wishes  really  to  de- 
prive her  of  them,  but  to  give  them  to  their  father,  that  she 
may  be  drawn  through  her  love  for  them  to  live  with  him." 

"No  woman  should  be  so  coerced,  sir;  no  man  should  wish 
her  to  be." 

"  But  I  tell  you  it  is  for  her  good  to  be  reunited  to  her  hus- 
band." 


A    STEP    HIGHER.  443 

"Her  own  heart,  taught  by  her  own  instincts  and  experi- 
ences, is  the  best  judge  of  that." 

"  Ishmael  don't  be  Quixotic :  if  you  do,  you  will  never  suc- 
ceed in  the  legal  profession.  In  this  case  the  law  is  on  the 
father's  side,  and  you  should  be  on  the  law's." 

"  The  law  is  the  minister  of  justice,  and  shall  never  in  my 
hands  become  the  accomplice  of  injustice.  The  law  may  be  on 
the  father's  side;  but  that  remains  to  be  proved  when  both 
sides  shall  be  heard ;  but  it  appears  to  me  that  justice  and  mercy 
are  on  the  mother's  side." 

"  That  remains  to  be  proved.  Come,  boy,  don't  be  so  mad 
as  to  refuse  this  golden  opening  to  fame  and  fortune !  Pocket 
your  fee  and  take  up  your  brief." 

"  Judge  Merlin,  I  thank  you  from  the  depths  of  my  heart 
for  your  great  goodness  in  procuring  this  chance  for  me;  and 
I  beg  that  you  will  pardon  me  for  what  I  am  about  to  say — 
but  I  cannot  touch  either  fee  or  brief.  The  case  is  a  case  of 
cruelty,  sir,  and  I  cannot  have  anything  to  do  with  it.  I  can- 
not make  my  debut  in  a  court  of  law  against  a  poor  woman, — 
a  poor  mother, — to  tear  from  her  the  babes  she  is  clasping  to 
her  bosom." 

"  Ishmael,  if  those  are  the  sentiments  and  principles  under 
which  you  mean  to  act,  you  will  never  attain  the  fame  to 
which  your  talents  might  otherwise  lead  you — never!" 

"  No,  never,"  said  Ishmael  fervently ;  "  never,  if  to  reach  it 
I  have  to  step  upon  a  woman's  heart !  'No !  by  the  sacred  grave 
of  my  own  dear  mother,  I  never  will !  "  And  the  face  of  Nora's 
son  glowed  with  an  earnest,  fervent,  holy  love. 

"  Be  a  poet,  Ishmael,  you  will  never  be  a  lawyer," 

"  Never — if  to  be  a  lawyer  I  have  to  cease  to  be  a  man !  But 
it  is  as  God  wills." 

The  ringing  of  the  tea-bell  broke  up  the  conference,  and  they 
went  down  into  the  parlor,  where,  beside  the  family,  they 
found  Viscount  Vincent. 

And  Ishmael  Worth,  the  weaver's  son,  had  the  honor  of  sit- 
ting down  to  tea  with  a  live  lord. 

The  viscount  spent  the  evening,  and  retired  late. 

As  Ishmael  bade  the  family  good-night,  the  judge  said: 

"  My  young  friend,  consult  your  pillow.  I  always  do,  when 
I  can,  before  making  any  important  decision.  Think  over  the 
matter  well,  my  lad,  and  defer  your  final  decision  about  the 
brief  until  you  see  Walsh  to-morrow." 


'444  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  II?    THE   DEPTHS. 

"  You  are  very  kind  to  me,  sir.  I  will  follow  your  advice, 
as  far  as  I  may  do  so,"  replied  I«limael. 

That  nig-ht,  lying  upon  his  bfd,  Ishmael's  soul  was  assailed 
with  temptation.  He  knew  that  in  accepting  the  brief  offered 
to  him,  in  such  flattering  terms,  he  should  in  the  first  place  very 
much  please  his  friend.  Judge  Merlin — who,  though  he  did  not 
give  his  young  assistant  anything  like  a  fair  salary  for  his 
services,  yet  took  almost  a  fatherly  interest  in  his  welfare;  he 
knew  also,  in  the  second  place,  that  be  might — nay,  would — open 
his  way  to  a  speedy  success  and  a  brilliant  professional  career, 
which  would,  in  a  reasonable  space  of  time,  place  him  in  a 
position  even  to  aspire  to  the  hand  of  Claudia  Merlin.  Oh, 
most  beautiful  of  temptations  that !  To  refuse  the  brief,  he 
knew,  would  ,be  to  displease  Judge  Merlin,  and  to  defer  his 
own  professional  success  for  an  indefinite  length  of  time. 

All  night  long  Ishmael  struggled  with  the  tempter.  In  the 
morning  he  arose  from  his  sleepless  pillow  unrefreshed  and 
fevered.  He  bathed  his  burning  head,  made  his  morning  toilet, 
and  sat  down  to  read  a  portion  of  the  Scripture,  as  was  his 
morning  custom,  before  beginning  the  business  of  the  day. 
The  portion  selected  this  morning  v/as  the  fourth  chapter  of 
Matthew,  describing  the  fast  and  the  temptation  of  our  Saviour, 
Ishmael  had  read  this  portion  of  Scripture  many  times  before, 
but  never  with  such  deep  interest  as  now,  when  it  seemed  to  an- 
swer so  well  his  own  spirit's  need.  With  the  deepest  reverence 
he  read  the  words : 

"  When  he  had  fasted  forty  days  and  forty  nights,  he  was 
afterwards  an  hungered. 

"  The  devil  taketh  him  up  into  an  exceeding  high  mountain, 
and  showeth  him  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  and  the  glory 
of  them; 

"  And  saith  unto  him.  All  these  things  will  I  give  thee  if 
thou  wilt  fall  down  and  worship  me. 

"  Then  saith  Jesus  unto  him.  Get  thee  hence,  Satan :  for  it 
is  written,  Thou  shalt  worship  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  him 
only  shalt  thou  serve. 

"  Then  the  devil  leaveth  him,  and  behold,  angels  came  and 
ministered  unto  him." 

Ishmael  closed  the  book  and  bowed  his  head  in  serious 
thought. 

"Yes,"  he  said  to  himself;  "I  suppose  it  must  be  so.  The 
servant  is  not  greater  than  the  Masrter.    He  was  tempted  in  the 


A    STEP   HIGHER.  445 

very  opening  of  his  ministry;  and  I  suppose  every  follower  of 
him  must  be  tempted  in  like  manner  in  the  beginning  of  his 
life.  I,  also,  here  in  the  commencement  of  my  professional 
career,  am  subjected  to  a  great  temptation,  that  must  decide, 
once  for  all,  whether  I  will  serve  God  or  Satan!  I,  too,  have 
had  a  long,  long  fast — a  fast  from  all  the  pleasant  things  of  , 
this  world,  and  I  am  an  hungered — ah,  very  much  hungered  for 
some  joys!  I,  too,  am  offered  success  and  honor  and  glory  if 
I  will  but  fall  down  and  worship  Satan  in  the  form  of  the 
golden  fee  and  the  cruel  brief  held  out  to  me.  But  I  will  not. 
Oh,  Heaven  helping  me,  I  will  be  true  to  my  highest  convic- 
tions of  duty!  Yes — come  weal  or  come  woe,  I  will  be  true 
to  God.  I  will  be  a  faithful  steward  of  the  talents  he  has  in- 
trusted to  me." 

And  with  this  resolution  in  his  heart  Ishmael  went  down 
into  the  library  and  commenced  his  usual  morning's  work  of 
answering  letters  and  writing  out  law  documents.  He  found 
an  unusual  number  of  letters  to  write,  and  they  occupied  him 
until  the  breakfast  bell  rang. 

After  breakfast  Ishmael  returned  to  the  library  and  resumed 
his  work,  and  was  busily  engaged  in  engrossing  a  deed  of  con- 
veyance when  the  door  opened  and  Judge  Merlin  entered  ac- 
companied by  a  tall,  dark-haired,  handsome,  and  rather  pre- 
possessing-looking man,  of  about  fifty  years  of  age,  whom  he 
introduced  as  Mr.  Walsh. 

Ishmael  arose  to  receive  the  visitor,  and  offer  him  a  chair, 
which  he  took. 

The  judge  declined  the  seat  Ishmael  placed  for  him,  and  said : 

"  No,  I  will  leave  you  with  your  client,  Ishmael,  that  he 
may  explain  his  business  at  full  length.  I  have  an  engagement 
at  the  State  Department,  and  I  will  go  to  keep  it." 

And  the  judge  bowed  and  left  the  room. 

As  soon  as  they  were  left  alone  Mr.  Walsh  began  to  explain 
his  business,  first  saying  that  he  presumed  Judge  Merlin  had 
handed  him  the  retaining  fee  and  the  brief. 

"Yes;  you  will  find  both  there  on  the  table  beside  you,  un- 
touched," answered  Ishmael  gravely. 

"  Ah,  you  have  not  had  time  yet  to  look  at  the  brief.  ISTo 
matter;  we  can  go  over  it  together,"  said  Mr.  Walsh,  taking  up 
the  document  in  question,  and  beginning  to  unfold  it. 

"  I  beg  you  will  excuse  me,  sir ;  I  would  rather  not  look  at 
the  brief,  as  I  cannot  take  the  case/'  said  Ishmael. 


446      ishmael;  oe,  in  the  depths. 

"You  cannoc  take  the  case?  Why,  I  understood  from  Judge 
Merlin  that  your  time  was  not  quite  filled  up;  that  you  were 
not  overwhelmed  with  cases,  and  that  you  could  very  well 
find  time  to  conduct  mine.    Can  you  not  do  so  ? " 

"  It  is  not  a  question  of  time  or  the  pressure  of  business.  I 
have  an  abundance  of  the  first  and  very  little  of  the  last.  In 
fact,  sir,  I  have  been  but  very  recently  admitted  to  the  bar,  and 
have  not  yet  been  favored  with  a  single  case;  I  am  as  yet  a 
briefless  lawyer." 

"Not  briefless  if  you  take  my  brief;  for  the  judge  speaks 
in  the  highest  terms  of  your  talents;  and  I  know  that  a  young 
barrister  always  bestows  great  care  upon  his  first  case,"  said 
Mr.  Walsh  pleasantly. 

"  Pray  excuse  me,  sir ;  but  I  decline  the  case." 

"  But  upon  what  ground  ?  " 

"Upon  the  ground  of  principle,  sir.  I  cannot  array  myself 
against  a  mother  who  is  defending  her  right  to  the  possession 
of  her  own  babes,"  said  Ishmael  gravely. 

"  Oh,  I  see !  chivalric !  Well,  that  is  very  becoming  in  a 
young  man.  But,  bless  you,  my  dear  sir,  you  are  mistaken  in 
your  premises.  I  do  not  really  wish  to  part  the  mother  and 
children.  If  you  will  give  me  your  attention,  I  will  ex- 
plain  "  began  the  would-be  client. 

"  I  beg  that  you  will  not,  sir ;  excuse  me,  I  pray  you ;  but  as 
I  really  cannot  take  the  case,  I  ought  not  to  hear  your  state- 
ment." 

"  Oh,  nonsense,  my  young  friend !  I  know  what  is  the  mat- 
ter with  you ;  but  when  you  have  heard  my  statement,  you  will 
accept  my  brief,"  said  Walsh  pleasantly,  for,  according  to  a 
well-known  principle  in  human  nature,  he  grew  anxious  to  se- 
cure the  services  of  the  young  barrister  just  in  proportion  to 
the  difiiculty  of  getting  them. 

And  so,  notwithstanding  the  courteous  remonstrances  o£ 
Ishmael,  he  commenced  and  told  his  story. 

It  was  the  story  of  an  egotist  so  intensely  egotistical  as  to 
be  quite  unconscious  of  his  egotism;  forever  thinking  of  him- 
self— forever  oblivious  of  others  except  as  they  ministered  to 
his  self-interest;  filled  up  to  the  lips  with  the  feeling  of  his 
rights  and  privileges;  but  entirely  empty  of  any  notion  of  his 
duties  and  responsibilities.  With  him  it  was  always  "  I," 
"mine,"  "me";  never  "we,"  "ours,"  "us." 

Ishmael  listened  under  protest  to  this  story  that  was  forced 


A    STEP   HIGHER.  447 

■upon  his  unwilling  ears.  At  its  end,  when  the  narrator  was 
waiting  to  see  what  impression  he  had  made  upon  his  young 
hearer,  and  what  comment  the  latter  would  make,  Ishmael 
calmly  arose,  took  the  brief  from  the  table  and  put  it  into  the 
hands  of  Mr.  Walsh,  saying,  with  a  dignity — aye,  even  a  ma- 
jesty of  mien  rarely  found  in  so  young  a  man : 

"  Take  your  brief,  sir ;  nothing  on  earth  could  induce  me  to 
touch  it !  " 

"  What !  not  after  the  full  explanation  I  have  given  you  ? " 
exclaimed  the  man  in  naive  surprise. 

"If  I  had  entertained  a  single  doubt  about  the  propriety  of 
refusing  your  brief  before  hearing  your  explanation,  that 
doubt  would  have  been  set  at  rest  after  hearing  it,"  said  the 
young  barrister  sternly. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  sir  ?  "  questioned  the  other,  bristling  up, 

"  I  mean  that  the  case,  even  by  your  own  plausible  showing, 
is  one  of  the  greatest  cruelty  and  injustice,"  replied  Ishmael 
firmly. 

"  Cruelty  and  injustice ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Walsh,  in  even 
more  astonishment  than  anger.  "  Why,  what  the  deuce  do  you 
mean  by  that  ?  The  woman  is  my  wife !  the  children  are  my 
own  children !  And  I  have  a  lawful  right  to  the  possession  of 
them.  I  wonder  what  the  deuce  you  mean  by  cruelty  and  in- 
justice ! " 

"  By  your  ovm  account,  you  left  your  wife  nine  years  ago 
without  provocation,  and  without  making  the  slightest  pro- 
vision for  herself  and  her  children;  you  totally  neglected  them 
from  that  time  to  this;  leaving  her  to  struggle  alone  and  un- 
aided through  all  the  privations  and  perils  of  such  an  unnatu- 
ral position ;  during  all  these  years  she  has  worked  for  the  sup- 
port and  education  of  her  children;  and  now,  at  last,  when  it 
suits  you  to  live  with  her  again,  you  come  back,  and  finding  that 
you  have  irrecoverably  lost  her  confidence  and  estranged  her 
affections,  you  would  call  in  the  aid  of  the  law  to  tear  her  chil- 
dren from  her  arms,  and  coerce  her,  through  her  love  for  them, 
to  become  your  slave  and  victim  again.  Sir,  sir,  I  am  amazed 
that  any  man  of — I  will  not  say  honor  or  honesty,  but  common 
sense  and  prudence — should  dare  to  think  of  throwing  such 
a  case  as  that  into  court,"  said  Ishmael  earnestly. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that,  sir  ?  Your  language  is  inad- 
missible, sir !     The  law  is  on  my  side,  however !  " 

"  If  the  law  were  on  your  side,  the  law  ought  to  be  remodeled 


448  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN-   THE   DEPTHS. 

witliout  delay;  but  if  you  venture  to  go  to  trial  with  such  a 
case  as  this,  you  will  find  the  law  is  not  on  your  side.  You  have 
forfeited  all  right  to  interfere  with  Mrs.  Walsh,  or  her  children ; 
and  I  would  earnestly  advise  you  to  avoid  meeting  her  in 
court." 

"  Your  language  is  insulting,  sir !  Judge  Merlin  held  a  dif- 
ferent opinion  from  yours  of  this  case ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Walsh, 
with  excitement. 

"  Judge  Merlin  could  not  have  understood  the  merits  of  the 
case.  But  it  is  quite  useless  to  prolong  this  interview,  sir;  I 
have  an  engagement  at  ten  o'clock  and  must  wish  you  good- 
morning,"  said  Ishmael,  rising  and  ringing  the  bell,  and  then 
drawing  on  his  gloves. 

Jim  answered  the  summons  and  entered  the  room. 

"  Attend  this  gentleman  to  the  front  door,"  said  Ishmael,  tak- 
ing up  his  own  hat  as  if  to  follow  the  visitor  from  the  room. 

"  Mr.  Worth,  you  have  insulted  me,  sir ! "  exclaimed  Walsh 
excitedly,  as  he  arose  and  snatched  up  his  money  and  his 
brief. 

"  I  hope  I  am  incapable  of  insulting  any  man,  sir.  You 
forced  upon  me  a  statement  that  I  was  unwilling  to  receive ;  you 
asked  my  qpinion  upon  it  and  I  gave  it  to  you,"  replied  Ishmael. 

"  I  will  have  satisfaction,  sir ! "  exclaimed  Walsh,  clapping 
his  hat  upon  his  head  and  marching  to  the  door. 

"  Any  satisfaction  that  I  can  conscientiously  afford  you  shall 
be  heartily  at  your  service,  Mr.  Walsh,"  said  Ishmael,  rais- 
ing his  hat  and  bowing  courteously  at  the  retreating  figure  of 
the  angry  visitor. 

When  he  was  quite  gone  Ishmael  took  up  his  parcels  of  let- 
ters and  documents  and  went  out.  He  went  first  to  the  post 
office  to  mail  his  letters,  and  then  went  to  the  City  Hall,  where 
the  Circuit  Court  was  sitting. 

As  Ishmael  walked  on  towards  the  City  Hall  he  thought 
over  the  dark  story  he  had  just  heard.  He  knew  very  well  that, 
according  to  the  custom  of  human  nature,  the  man,  however 
truthful  in  intention,  had  put  the  story  in  its  fairest  light;  and 
yet  how  dark,  with  sin  on  one  side  and  sorrow  on  the  other,  it 
looked!  And  if  it  looked  so  dark  from  his  fair  showing,  how 
much  darker  it  must  look  from  the  other  point  of  view !  A 
deep  pity  for  the  woman  took  possession  of  his  heart;  an  ear- 
nest wish  to  help  her  inspired  his  mind.  He  thought  of  his 
own  young  mother,  whom  he  had  never  seen,  yet  always  loved. 


A    STEP   HIGHER.  449 

And  lie  resolved  to  assist  this  poor  mother,  who  had  no  money 
to  pay  counsel  to  help  her  defend  her  children,  because  it  took 
every  cent  she  could  earn  to  feed  and  clothe  them. 

"  Yes,  the  cause  of  the  oppressed  is  the  cause  of  God !  And 
I  will  offer  the  fruits  of  my  professional  labors  to  him,"  said 
Nora's  son,  as  he  reached  the  City  Hall. 

Ishmael  was  not  one  to  wait  for  a  "  favorable  opportunity." 
Few  opportunities  ever  came  to  him  except  in  the  shape  of 
temptations,  which  he  resisted.  He  made  his  opportunities.- 
So  when  the  business  that  brought  him  to  the  courtroom  was 
completed,  he  turned  his  steps  towards  Capitol  Hill.  For  he 
had  learned  from  the  statements  of  Judge  Merlin  and  Mr. 
Walsh  that  it  was  there  the  poor  mother  kept  her  little  day- 
school.  After  some  inquiries,  he  succeeded  in  finding  the 
schoolhouse — a  little  white  frame  building,  with  a  front  and 
back  door  and  four  windows,  two  on  each  side,  in  a  little  yard, 
at  the  corner  of  the  street.  Ishmael  opened  the  gate  and  rapped 
at  the  door.  It  was  opened  by  a  little  girl,  who  civilly  invited 
him  to  enter. 

A  little  school  of  about  a  dozen  small  girls,  of  the  middle 
class  in  society,  seated  on  forms  ranged  in  exact  order  on  each 
side  the  narrow  aisle  that  led  up  to  the  teacher's  desk.  Seated 
behind  that  de?k  was  a  little,  thin,  dark-haired  woman,  dressed 
in  a  black  alpaca  and  white  collar  and  cuffs.  At  the  entrance 
of  Ishmael  she  glanced  up  with  large,  scared-looking  black  eyes 
that  seemed  to  fear  in  every  stranger  to  see  an  enemy  or  peril. 
As  Ishmael  advanced  towards  her  those  wild  eyes  grew  wilder 
with  terror,  her  cheeks  blanched  to  a  deadly  whiteness,  and  she 
clasped  her  hands  and  she  trembled. 

"  Poor  hunted  hare !  she  fears  even  in  me  a  foe !  "  thought 
Ishmael,  as  he  vralked  up  to  the  desk.  She  arose  and  leaned  over 
the  desk,  looking  at  him  eagerly  and  inquiringly  with  those 
frightened  eyes. 

And  now  for  the  first  time  Ishmael  felt  a  sense  of  embar- 
rassment. A  generous,  youthful  impulse  to  help  the  oppressed 
had  hurried  him  to  her  presence;  but  what  should  he  say  to 
her?  how  apologize  for  his  unsolicited  visit?  how  venture,  un- 
authorized,  to  intermeddle  with  her  business? 

He  bowed  and  laid  his  card  before  her. 

She  snatched  it  up  and  read  it  eagerly. 

ISHMAEii      WOHTH, 

Attorney-at-Law. 


450  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN"   THE    DEPTHS. 

"  Ah !  you — I  have  been  expecting  this.  You  come  from  my 
— I  mean  Mr.  Walsh  ? "  she  inquired,  palpitating  with  panic. 

"  ISTo,  madam,"  said  Ishmael,  in  a  sweet,  reassured,  and  re- 
assuring tone,  for  compassion  for  her  had  restored  confidence  to 
him.     "  JSTo,  madam,  I  am  not  the  counsel  of  Mr.  Walsh." 

"  You — you  come  from  court,  then  ?  Perhaps  you  are  going 
to  have  the  writ  of  habeas  corpus,  with  which  I  have  been 
threatened,  served  upon  me?  You  need  not!  I  won't  give  up 
my  children — they  are  my  own!  I  won't  for  twenty  writs  of 
habeas  corpus,"  she  exclaimed  excitedly. 

"  But,  madam "  began   Ishmael   soothingly. 

"  Hush !  I  know  what  you  are  going  to  say ;  you  needn't  say 
it !  You  are  going  to  tell  me  that  a  writ  of  habeas  corpus  is  the 
most  powerful  engine  the  law  can  bring  to  bear  upon  me !  that 
to  resist  it  would  be  flagrant  contempt  of  court,  subjecting  me 
to  fine  and  imprisonment!  I  do  not  care!  I  do  not  care!  I 
have  contempt,  a  very  profound  contempt,  for  any  court,  or 
any  law,  that  would  try  to  wrest  from  a  Christian  mother  the 
children  that  she  has  borne,  fed,  clothed,  and  educated  all  her- 
self, and  give  them  to  a  man  who  has  totally  neglected  them 
all  their  lives.  Nature  is  hard  enough  upon  woman,  the  Lord 
knows !  giving  her  a  weaker  frame  and  a  heavier  burden  than 
is  allotted  to  man !  but  the  law  is  harder  still — taking  from  her 
the  sacred  rights  with  which  nature  in  compensation  has  in- 
vested her!  But  I  will  not  yield  mine!  There!  Do  your 
worst !  Serve  your  writ  of  habeas  corpus !  I  will  resist  it ! 
I  will  not  give  up  my  own  children !  I  will  not  bring  them  into 
court !  I  will  not  tell  you  where  they  are !  They  are  in  a 
place  of  safety,  thank  God !  and  as  for  me — fine,  imprison,  tor- 
ture me  as  much  as  you  like,  you  will  find  me  rock !  "  she  ex- 
claimed, with  her  eyes  flashing  and  all  her  little  dark  figure 
bristling  with  terror  and  resistance,  for  all  the  world  like  a 
poor  little  frightened  kitten  spluttering  defiance  at  a  big  dog! 

Ishmael  did  not  interrupt  her;  he  let  her  go  on  with  her 
wild  talk;  he  had  been  too  long  used  to  poor  Hannah's  excita- 
ble nerves  not  to  have  learned  patience  with  women. 

"  Yes,  you  will  find  me  rock — rock !  "  she  repeated ;  and  to 
prove  how  much  of  a  rock  she  was,  the  poor  little  creature 
dropped  her  head  upon  the  desk,  burst  into  tears,  and  sobbed 
hysterically. 

Ishmael's  experience  taught  him  to  let  her  sob  on  until  her 
fit  of  passion  had  exhausted  itself. 


A    STEP   HIGHER.  451 

Meanwhile  one  or  two  of  the  most  sensitive  little  girls,  see- 
ing their  teacher  weep,  fell  to  crying  for  company;  others  whis- 
pered among  themselves;  and  others,  again,  looked  belligerent. 

"  Go  tell  him  to  go  away,  Mary,"  said  the  little  one. 

"  I  don't  like  to ;  you  go,  Ellen,"  said  anothea:. 

"  I'm  afraid." 

"  Oh !  you  scary  things !  I'll  go  myself,"  said  a  third ;  and, 
rising,  this  little  one  came  to  the  rescue,  and  standing  up 
j&rmly  before  the  intruder  said: 

"  What  do  you  come  here  for,  making  our  teacher  cry  ?  Go 
Lome  this  minute;  if  you  don't  I'll  run  right  across  the  street 
and  fetch  my  father  from  the  shop  to  you!  he's  as  big  as  you 
are!" 

Ishmael  turned  his  beautiful  eyes  upon  this  little  champion 
of  six  summers,  and  smiling  upon  her,  said  gently : 

"  I  did  not  come  here  to  make  anybody  cry,  my  dear ;  I  came 
to  do  your  teacher  a  service." 

The  child  met  his  glance  with  a  searching  look,  such  as  only 
babes  can  give,  and  turned  and  went  back  and  reported  to  her 
companions. 

"  He's  good ;  he  won't  hurt  anybody." 

Mrs.  Walsh  having  sobbed  herself  into  quietness,  wiped  her 
eyes,  looked  up  and  said : 

"  Well,  sir,  why  don't  you  proceed  with  your  business  ?  Why 
don't  you  serve  your  writ  ? " 

"  My  dear  madam,  it  is  not  my  business  to  serve  writs. 
[Ajid  if  it  was  I  have  none  to  serve,"  said  Ishmael  very  gently. 

She  looked  at  him  in  doubt. 

"  You  have  mistaken  my  errand  here,  madam.  I  am  not  re- 
tained on  the  other  side;  I  have  nothing  whatever  to  do  with 
the  other  side.  I  have  heard  your  story;  my  sympathies  are 
with  you;  and  I  have  come  here  to  offer  you  my  professional 
services,"  said  Ishmael  gravely. 

She  looked  at  him  earnestly,  as  if  she  would  read  his  soul. 
The  woman  of  thirty  was  not  so  quick  at  reading  character  as 
the  little  child  of  six  had  been. 

"  Have  you  counsel  ?  "  inquired  Ishmael. 

"  Counsel  ?    No !    Where  should  I  get  it  ? " 

"Will  you  accept  me  as  counsel?  I  came  here  to  offer  you 
my  services." 

"  I  tell  you  I  have  no  means,  sir." 

"I  do  not  want  any  remuneration  in  your  case;  I  wish  to 


452  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  Il!f   THE   DEPTHS. 

serve  you,  for  your  own  sake  and  for  God's ;  something  we  must 
do  for  God's  sake  and  for  our  fellow  creatures'.  I  wish  to  be 
your  counsel  in  the  approaching  trial.  I  think,  with  the  favor 
of  Divine  Providence,  I  can  bring  your  case  to  a  successful 
issue  and  secure  you  in  the  peaceful  possession  of  your  chil- 
dren." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  Oh !  do  you  think  so  ? "  she  inquired 
eagerly,  warmly. 

"  I  really  do.  I  think  so,  even  from  the  showing  of  the  other 
side,  who,  of  course,  put  the  fairest  face  upon  their  own  cause." 

"  And  will  you  ?    Oh !  will  you  ?  " 

"  With  the  help  of  Heaven,  I  will." 

"  Oh,  surely  Heaven  has  sent  you  to  my  aid." 

At  this  moment  the  little  school  clock  struck  out  sharply  the 
hour  of  noon. 

"  It  is  the  children's  recess,"  said  the  teacher.  "  Lay  aside 
your  books,  dears,  and  leave  the  room  quietly  and  in  good  order." 

The  children  took  their  hoods  and  cloaks  from  the  pegs  on 
which  they  hung  and  went  out  one  by  one — each  child  turning 
to  make  her  little  courtesy  before  passing  the  door.  Thus  all 
went  out  but  two  little  sisters,  who  living  at  a  distance  had 
brought  their  luncheon,  which  they  now  took  to  the  open 
front  door,  where  they  sat  on  the  steps  in  the  pleasant  winter 
sunshine  to  eat. 

The   teacher   turned  to  her  young  visitor. 

"  Will  you  sit  down  ?  And  ah !  will  you  pardon  me  for  the 
rude  reception  I  gave  you  ? " 

"  Pray  do  not  think  of  it.  It  was  so  natural  that  I  have 
not  given  it  a  thought,"  said  Ishmael  gently. 

"  It  is  not  my  disposition  to  do  so ;  but  I  have  suffered  so 
much;   I  have   been  goaded  nearly  to   desperation." 

"  I  see  that,  madam ;  you  are  exceedingly  nervous." 

"  ^Nervous !  why,  women  have  been  driven  to  madness  and 
death  with  less  cause  than  I  have  had ! " 

"  Do  not  think  of  your  troubles  in  that  manner,  madam ;  do 
not  excite  yourself,  compose  yourself,  rather.  Believe  me, 
it  is  of  the  utmost  importance  to  your  success  that  you  should 
exhibit  coolness  and  self-possession." 

"  Oh,  but  I  have  had  so  much  sorrow  for  so  many  years ! " 

"  Then  in  the  very  nature  of  things  your  sorrows  must  soon 
be  over.  Nothing  lasts  long  in  this  world.  But  you  have  had 
a  recent  bereavement,"  said  Ishmael  gently,  and  glancing  at 


A    STEP    iriGIIER.  453 

her  black  dress;  for  he  thought  it  was  better  that  she  should 
think  of  her  chastening-  from  the  hands  of  God  rather  than 
her  wrongs  from  those  of  men.  But  to  his  surprise,  the  woman 
smiled  faintly  as  she  also  glanced  at  her  dress,  and  replied : 

"  Oh,  no !  I  have  lost  no  friend  by  death  since  the  decease 
of  my  parents  years  ago,  far  back  in  my  childhood.  No,  I  am 
not  Avearing  mourning  for  anyone.  I  wear  this  black  alpaca 
because  it  is  cheap  and  decent  and  protective." 

'•Protective?" 

"  Ah,  yes !  no  one  knows  how  protective  the  black  dress  is 
to  a  woman,  better  than  I  do!  There  are  few  who  would  ven- 
ture to  treat  with  levity  or  disrespect  a  quiet  woman  in  a 
black  dress.  And  so  I,  who  have  no  father,  brother,  or  husband 
to  protect  me,  take  a  shelter  under  a  black  alpaca.  It  repels 
dirt,  too,  as  well  as  disrespect.  It  is  clean  as  well  as  safe,  and 
that  is  a  great  desideratum  to  a  poor  schoolmistress,"  she  said, 
smiling  with  an  almost  childlike  candor. 

"I  am  glad  to  see  you  smile  again;  and  now,  shall  we  go 
to  business  ?  "  said  Ishmael. 

"  Oh,  yes,  thank  you." 

"  I  must  ask  you  to  be  perfectly  candid  with  me ;  it  is  neces- 
sary." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know  it  is,  and  I  will  be  so ;  for  I  can  trust  you, 
now." 

"  Tell  me,  then,  as  clearly,  as  fully,  and  as  calmly  as  you  can, 
fthe  circumstances  of  your  case." 

*I  will  try  to  do  so,"  said  the  woman. 

It  is  useless  to  repeat  her  story  here.  It  was  only  the  same 
old  story — of  the  young  girl  of  fortfme  marrying  a  spendthrift, 
who  dissipated  her  property,  estranged  her  friends,  alienated 
her  affections,  and  then  left  her  penniless,  to  struggle  alone 
■with  all  the  ills  of  poverty  to  bring  up  her  three  little  girls.  By 
her  own  unaided  efforts  she  had  fed,  clothed,  and  educated  her 
three  children  for  the  last  nine  years.  And  now  he  had  come 
hack  and  wanted  her  to  live  with  him  again.  But  she  had  not 
only  ceased  to  love  him,  but  began  to  dread  him,  lest  he  should 
get  into  debt  and  make  way  with  the  little  personal  property 
she  had  gathered  by  years  of  labor,  frugality,  self-denial. 

"  He  says  that  he  is  wealthy,  how  is  that  ? "  questioned  Ish- 
mael. 

A  spasm  of  pain  passed  over  her  sensitive  face. 

"  I  did  not  like  to  tell  you,  although  I  promised  to  be  candid 


454  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN    THE    DEPTHS. 

with  you ;  but  ah !  I  cannot  benefit  by  his  wealth ;  I  could  not 
conscientiously  appropriate  one  dollar;  and  even  if  I  could  do 
so,  I  could  not  trust  in  its  continuance;  the  money  is  ill-gotten 
and  evanescent;  it  is  the  money  of  a  gambler,  who  is  a  prince 
one  hour  and  a  pauper  the  next." 

Then  seeing  Ishmael  shrink  back  in  painful  surprise,  she 
added : 

"  To  do  him  justice,  Mr.  Worth,  that  is  his  only  vice ;  it  has 
ruined  my  little  family;  it  has  brought  us  to  the  very  verge 
of  beggary;  it  must  not  be  permitted  to  do  so  again;  I  must 
defend  my  little  home  and  little  girls,  against  the  spoiler." 

"  Certainly,"  said  Ishmael,  whose  time  was  growing  short ; 
■"  give  me  pen  and  ink ;  I  will  take  down  minutes  of  the  state- 
ment, and  then  read  it  to  you,  to  see  if  it  is  correct." 

She  placed  stationery  before  him  on  one  of  the  school-desks, 
and  he  sat  down  and  went  to  work. 

"  You  have  witnesses  to  support  your  statement  ? "  he  in- 
quired. 

"  Oh,  yes !  scores  of  them,  if  wanted." 

"  Give  me  the  names  of  the  most  important  and  the  facts  they 
can  swear  to." 

Mrs.  Walsh  complied,  and  he  took  them  down.  When  he  had 
finished  and  read  over  the  brief  to  her,  and  received  her  assur- 
ance that  it  was  correct,  he  arose  to  take  his  leave. 

"  But — will  not  all  those  witnesses  cost  a  great  deal  of 
money  ?  And  will  not  there  be  other  heavy  expenses  apart  from 
the  services  of  counsel  that  you  are  so  good  as  to  give  me  ?  "  in- 
quired the  teacher  anxiously. 

"  Not  for  you,"  replied  Ishmael,  in  a  soothing  voice,  as  he 
shook  hands  with  her,  and,  with  the  promise  to  see  her  again 
at  the  same  hour  the  next  day,  took  his  leave. 

He  smiled  upon  the  little  sisters  as  he  passed  them  in  the 
doorway,  and  then  left  the  schoolhouse  and  hurried  on  towards 
home. 

"  Well ! "  said  Judge  Merlin,  who  was  waiting  for  him  in  the 
library,  "  have  you  decided  ?  Are  you  counsel  for  the  plaintiff 
in  the  great  suit  of  Walsh  versus  Walsh  ? " 

"  No,"  answered  Ishmael,  "  I  am  retained  for  the  defendant. 
I  have  just  had  a  consultation  with  my  client." 

"  Great  Jove ! "  exclaimed  the  judge,  in  unbounded  aston- 
ishment. "  It  was  raving  madness  in  you  to  refuse  the  plain- 
tiff's brief;  but  to  accept  the  defendant's " 


A    STEP   HIGHEE.  455 

"  I  did  not  only  accept  it — I  went  and  asked  for  it,"  said  Ish- 
mael,  smiling. 

"Mad!  mad!  You  will  lose  your  first  case;  and  tliat  will 
throw  back  your  success  for  years !  " 

"  I  hope  not,  sir.  '  Thrice  is  he  armed  who  hath  his  quarrel 
just,'  "  smiled  Ishmael. 

At  the  luncheon  table  that  day  the  judge  told  the  story  of 
Ishmael's  quixotism,  as  he  called  it,  in  refusing  the  brief  and 
the  thumping  fee  of  the  plaintiff,  who  had  the  law  all  on  his 
side ;  and  whom  his  counsel  would  be  sure  to  bring  through  vic- 
toriously; and  taking  in  hand  the  course  of  the  defendant,  who 
had  no  money  to  pay  her  counsel,  no  law  on  her  side,  and  who 
was  bound  to  be  defeated. 

"But  she  has  justice  and  mercy  on  her  side;  and  it  shall  go 
hard  but  I  prove  the  law  on  her  side,  too." 

"  A  forlorn  hope,  Ishmael,  a  forlorn  hope ! "  said  Mr.  Mid- 
dleton. 

"  Forlorn  hopes  are  always  led  by  heroes,  papa,"  said  Bee. 

"  And  fools !  "  blurted  out  Judge  Merlin. 

Ishmael  did  not  take  offense,  he  knew  all  that  was  said  was 
well  meant;  the  judge  talked  to  him  with  the  plainness  of  a 
parent;  and  Ishmael  rather  enjoyed  being  affectionately  blown 
up  by  Claudia's  father. 

Miss  Merlin  now  looked  up,  and  condescended  to  say: 

"I  am  very  sorry,  Ishmael,  that  you  refused  the  rich  client; 
he  might  have  been  the  making  of  you." 

"  The  making  of  Ishmael.  With  the  blessing  of  Heaven,  he 
will  make  himself!  I  am  very  glad  he  refused  the  oppressor's 
gold !  "  exclaimed  Bee,  before  Ishmael  could  reply. 

When  Bee  ceased  to  speak,  he  said: 

"  I  am  very  sorry.  Miss  Merlin,  to  oppose  your  sentiments  in 
any  instance,  but  in  this  I  could  not  do  otherwise." 

"It  is  simply  a  question  of  right  or  wrong.  If  the  man's 
cause  was  bad,  Ishmael  was  right  to  refuse  his  brief;  if  the 
woman's  cause  was  good,  he  was  right  to  take  her  brief,"  said 
Mrs.  Middleton,  as  they  all  arose  from  the  table. 

That  evening  Ishmael  found  himself  by  chance  alone  in  the 
drawing  room  with  Bee. 

He  was  standing  before  the  front  window,  gazing  sadly  into 
vacancy.  The  carriage,  containing  Miss  Merlin,  Lord  Vincent, 
and  Mrs.  Middleton  as  chaperone,  had  just  rolled  away  from  the 
door.     They  were  going  to  a  dinner  party  at  the  President's. 


456  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  liS"   THE   DEPTHS. 

And  Ishmael  was  gazing  sadly  after  them,  -when  Bee  came  up 
to  his  side  and  spoke: 

"  I  am  very  glad,  Ishmael,  that  you  have  taken  sides  with  the 
poor  mother;  it  was  well  done." 

"  Thank  you,  dear  Bee !  I  hope  it  was  well  done ;  I  do  not 
regret  doing  it;  but  they  say  that  I  have  ruined  my  prospects." 

"  Do  not  believe  it,  Ishmael.  Have  more  faith  in  the 
triumph  of  right  against  overwhelming  odds.  I  like  the  lines 
you  quoted — 'Thrice  is  he  armed  who  feels  his  quarrel  just  I* 
The  poets  teach  us  a  great  deal,  Ishmael.  Only  to-day  I  hap- 
pened to  be  reading  in  Scott — in  one  of  his  novels,  by  the  way, 
this  was,  however — of  the  deadly  encounter  in  the  lists  between 
the  Champion  of  the  Wrong,  the  terrible  knight  Brian  de  Bois 
Guilbert,  and  the  Champion  of  Eight,  the  gentle  knight  Ivan- 
hoe.  Do  you  remember,  Ishmael,  how  Ivanhoe  arose  from  his 
bed  of  illness,  pale,  feeble,  reeling,  scarcely  able  to  bear  the 
weight  of  his  armor,  or  to  sit  his  horse,  much  less  encounter 
such  a  thunderbolt  of  war  as  Bois  Guilbert  ?  There  seemed  not 
a  hope  in  the  world  for  Ivanhoe.  Yet,  in  the  first  encounter  of 
the  knights,  it  was  the  terrible  Bois  Guilbert  that  rolled  in  the 
dust.    Might  is  not  right ;  but  right  is  might,  Ishmael !  " 

"  I  know  it,  dear  Bee ;  thank  you,  thank  you,  for  making  me 
feel  it  also !  "  said  Ishmael  fervently. 

"  The  alternative  presented  to  you  last  night  and  this  morn- 
ing was  sent  as  a  trial,  Ishmael;  such  a  trial  as  I  think  every 
man  must  encounter  once  in  his  life,  as  a  decisive  test  of  his 
spirit.  Even  our  Saviour  was  tempted,  offered  all  the  king- 
doms of  this  world,  and  the  glory  of  them,  if  he  would  fall 
down  and  worship  Satan.  But  he  rebuked  the  tempter  and  the 
Devil  fled  from  him." 

"And  angels  came  and  ministered  to  him,"  said  Ishmael, 
in  a  voice  of  ineffable  tenderness,  as  the  tears  filled  his  eyes  and 
he  approached  his  arm  toward  Bee.  His  impulse  was  to  draw 
her  to  his  bosom  and  press  a  kiss  on  her  brow — as  a  brother's 
embrace  of  a  loved  sister;  but  Ishmael's  nature  was  as  refined 
and  delicate  as  it  was  fervent  and  earnest;  and  he  abstained 
from  this  caress ;  he  said  instead : 

"  You  are  my  guardian  angel,  Bee.  I  have  felt  it  long,  little 
sister;  you  never  fail  in  a  crisis!" 

"  And  while  I  live  I  never  will,  Ishmael.  You  will  not  need 
man's  help,  for  you  will  help  yourself,  but  what  woman  may 
do  to  aid  and  comfort,  that  will  I  do  for  you,  my  brother." 


A    STEP   IIIGnER.  45 


o  i 


"What  a  heavenly  spirit  is  yours,  Bee,"  said  Ishmael  fer- 
vently. 

"  And  now  let  us  talk  of  business,  please,"  said  practical  little 
Bee,  who  never  indulged  in  sentiment  long.  "  That  poor 
mother !     You  give  her  your  services — ^gratuitously  of  course  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  Ishmael. 

"  But,  apart  from  her  counsel's  fee,  will  she  not  have  other 
expenses  to  meet  in  conducting  this  suit  ? " 

"  Yes." 

"  How  will  she  meet  them  ?  " 

"  Bee,  dear,  I  have  saved  a  little  money ;  I  mean  to  use  it  in 
her  service." 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  the  young  girl ;  "  do  you  mean  to  give 
her  your  professional  aid  and  pay  all  her  expenses  besides?" 

"Yes,"  said  Ishmael,  "as  far  as  the  money  will  go.  I  do 
this,  dear  Bee,  as  a  'thank  offering'  to  the  Lord  for  all  the 
success  he  has  given  me,  up  to  this  time.  When  I  think  of  the 
days  of  my  childhood  in  that  poor  Hill  hut,  and  compare  them 
to  these  days,  I  am  deeply  impressed  by  the  mercy  he  has  shown 
me ;  and  I  think  that  I  can  never  do  enough  to  show  my  grati- 
tude. I  consider  it  the  right  and  proper  thing  to  offer  the  first 
fruits  of  my  professional  life  to  him,  through  his  suffering  chil- 
dren." 

"  You  are  right,  Ishmael,  for  God  has  blessed  your  earnest 
efforts,  as,  indeed,  he  would  bless  those  of  anyone  so  conscien- 
tious and  persevering  as  yourself.  But,  Ishmael,  will  you  have 
money  enough  to  carry  on  the  suit  ? " 

"  I  hope  so,  Bee ;  I  do  not  know." 

"Here,  then,  Ishmael,  take  this  little  roll  of  notes;  it  is  a 
hundred  dollars;  use  it  for  the  woman,"  she  said,  putting  in 
his  hand  a  small  parcel. 

Ishmael  hesitated  a  moment;  but  Bee  hastened  to  reassure 
him  by  saying: 

"  You  had  as  well  take  it  as  not,  Ishmael.  I  can  very  well 
spare  't,  or  twice  as  much.  Papa  makes  me  a  much  larger  al- 
lowance than  one  of  my  simple  tastes  can  spend.  And  I  should 
like,"  she  added,  smiling,  "  to  go  partners  with  you  in  this  en- 
terprise." 

"  I  thank  you,  dear  Bee ;  and  I  will  take  your  generous  do- 
nation and  use  it,  if  necessary.  It  may  not  be  necessary,"  said 
Ishmael. 

''And  now  I  must  leave  you,  Ishmael,  and  go  to  little  Lu; 


458  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

she  is  not  well  this  evening."  And  the  little  Madonna-like 
maiden  glided  like  a  spirit  from  the  room. 

The  next  morning  Ishmael  went  to  see  his  client.  He  showed 
her  the  absolute  necessity  of  submission  to  the  writ  of  habeas 
corpus;  he  promised  to  use  his  utmost  skill  in  her  case;  urged 
her  to  trust  the  result  with  her  Heavenly  Father;  and  encour- 
aged her  to  hope  for  success. 

She  followed  Ishmael's  advice;  she  promised  to  obey  the  or- 
der, adding: 

"  It  will  be  on  Wednesday  in  Easter  week.  That  will  be  for- 
tunate, as  the  school  will  have  a  holiday,  and  I  shall  be  able  to 
attend  without  neglecting  the  work  that  brings  us  bread." 

"  Are  the  children  far  away  ?  Can  you  get  them  without  in* 
convenience  in  so  short  a  time  ? "  inquired  Ishmael. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  they  are  in  the  country,  with  a  good  honest  couple 
named  Gray,  who  were  here  on  the  Christmas  holidays,  and 
boarded  with  my  aunt,  who  keeps  the  Farmer's  Eest,  near  the 
Center  Market,  My  aunt  recommended  them  to  me,  and  when 
I  saw  the  man  I  felt  as  if  I  could  have  trusted  uncounted 
gold  with  him — he  looked  so  true!  He  and  his  wife  took  my 
three  little  girls  home  with  them,  and  would  not  take  a  cent 
of  pay;  and  they  have  kept  my  secret  religiously." 

"  They  have  indeed !  "  said  Ishmael,  in  astonishment ;  "  for 
they  are  my  near  relatives  and  never  evea  told  me." 


CHAPTER  LVI. 

TRIAL  AND  TRIUMPH. 

Let  circumstance  oppose  him, 

He  bends  it  to  bis  will ; 
And  if  the  flood  o'erflows  him. 

He  dives  and  stems  it  still ; 
No  hindering  dull  material 

Shall  conquer  or  control 
His  energies  ethereal, 

His  gladiator  soul ! 
let  lower  spirits  linger, 

For  hint  and  beck  and  nod, 
Ee  always  sees  the  finger 

Of  an  onward  urging  GodJ 

—M.  F.  Tupper. 

Like  most  zealous,  young  professional  men,  Ishmael  did 
a  great  deal  more  work  for  his  first  client  than  either  custom 
or  duty  exacted  of  him. 


TRIAL    AND    TRIUMPH.  459' 

Authorized  by  her,  he  wrote  to  Reuben  Gray  to  bring  the 
children  to  the  city. 

And  accordingly,  in  three  days  after,  Reuben  arrived  at  the 
Farmer's  Rest,  with  his  wagon  full  of  family.  For  he  not  only 
brought  the  three  little  girls  he  was  required  to  bring,  but  also 
Hannah,  her  children,  and  her  nurse-maid  Sally. 

As  soon  as  he  had  seen  his  party  in  comfortable  quarters  he 
walked  up  to  the  Washington  House  to  report  himself  to  Ish- 
mael;  for,  somehow  or  other,  Reuben  had  grown  to  look  upon 
Ishmael  as  his  superior  officer  in  the  battle  of  life,  and  did  him 
honor,  very  much  as  the  veteran  sergeant  does  to  the  yoxing 
captain  of  his  company. 

Arrived  in  Ishmael's  room,  he  took  off  his  hat  and  said ; 

"  Here  I  am,  sir ;  and  I've  brung  'em  all  along." 

"  All  Mrs.  Walsh's  little  girls,  of  course,  for  they  are  re- 
quired," said  Ishmael,  shaking  hands  with  Gray. 

"  Yes,  and  all  the  rest  on  'em,  Hannah  and  the  little  uns, 
and  Sally  and  Sam,"  said  Reuben,  rubbing  his  hands  gleefully. 

"  But  that  was  a  great  task !  "  said  Ishmael,  in  surprise. 

"  Well,  no,  it  wasn't,  sir ;  not  half  so  hard  a  task  as  it  would 
have  been  to  a  left  them  all  behind,  poor  things.  You  see,  sir, 
the  reason  why  I  brung  'em  all  along  was  because  I  sort  o* 
think  they  love  me  a  deal ;  'pon  my  soul  I  do,  sir,  old  and  gray 
and  rugged  as  I  am;  and  I  don't  like  to  be  parted  from  'em, 
'specially  from  Hannah,  no,  not  for  a  day;  'cause  the  dear 
knows,  sir,  as  we  was  parted  long  enough,  poor  Hannah  and 
me;  and  now  as  we  is  married,  and  the  Lord  has  donated  us 
a  son  and  daughter  at  the  eleventh  hour,  unexpected,  praise 
be  unto  him  for  all  his  mercies,  I  never  mean  to  part  with 
any  on  'em  no  more,  not  even  for  a  day,  till  death  do  us  part, 
amen;  but  take  'em  all  'long  with  me,  wherever  I'm  called  toi 
go,  'specially  as  me  and  poor  Hannah  was  married  so  late  in: 
life  that  we  aint  got  many  more  years  before  us  to  be  together.'^ 

"  Nonsense,  Uncle  Reuben !  You  and  Aunt  Hannah  will  live 
forty  or  fifty  years  longer  yet,  and  see  your  grandchildren,  and 
maybe  your  great-grandchildren.  You  two  are  the  stuff  that 
centenarians  are  made  of,"  exclaimed  the  young  man  cheer- 
ingly. 

"Centenarians?  what's  them,  sir.?'' 

"  People  who  live  a  hundred  years." 

"Law!  Well,  I  have  hearn  of  such  things  happening  to 
other  folks,  and  why  not  to  ms  and  poor  Hannah?    Why,  sir. 


460  ISHMAEL ;  OR,  ii:^  the  depths. 

I  would  be  the  happiest  man  in  the  world,  if  I  thought  as  how 
I  had  all  them  there  years  to  live  long  o'  Hannah  and  the  little 
uns  in  this  pleasant  world.  But  his  will  be  done !  "  said  Gray, 
reverently  raising  his  hat. 

"  The  little  girls  are  all  right,  I  hope  ?  "  inquired  Ishmael. 

"  Yes,  sir ;  all  on  'em,  and  a  deal  fatter  and  rosier  and 
healthier  nor  they  was  when  I  fust  took  'em  down.  Perty  little 
darlings!  Didn't  they  enjoy  being  in  the  country,  neither, 
though  it  was  the  depth  of  winter  time  ?  Law,  Ish — sir,  I  mean 
■ — it's  a  mortal  sin  ag'in  natur'  to  keep  chil'en  in  town  if  it  can 
be  helped !  But  their  ma,  poor  thing,  couldn't  help  it,  I  know. 
Law,  Ish — sir,  I  mean — if  you  had  seen  her  that  same  Christmas 
Day,  as  she  ran  in  with  her  chil'en  to  her  aunt  as  is  hostess  at 
the  Farmer's.  If  ever  you  see  a  poor  little  white  bantam  try- 
ing to  cover  her  chicks  when  the  hawk  was  hovering  nigh  by, 
you  may  have  some  idea  of  the  way  she  looked  when  she  was  try- 
ing to  hide  her  chil'un  and  didn't  know  where;  'cause  she 
daren't  keep  'em  at  home  and  daren't  hide  'em  at  her  aunt's, 
for  her  home  would  be  the  first  place  inwaded  and  her  aunt's 
the  second.  They  was  all  so  flustered,  they  took  no  more  notice 
o'  me  standin'  in  the  parlor  'n  if  I  had  been  a  pillar-post,  'till 
feeling  of  pityful  towards  the  poor  things,  I  made  so  bold  to 
go  forward  and  offer  to  take  'em  home  'long  o'  me,  and  which 
was  accepted  with  thanks  and  tears  as  soon  as  the  landlady 
recommended  me  as  an  old  acquaintance  and  well-beknown  to 
herself.  So  it  was  settled.  That  night  when  you  come  to  spend 
the  evening  with  us,  Ish — sir,  I  mean — I  really  did  feel  guilty 
in  having  of  a  secret  as  I  wouldn't  tell  you;  but  you  see,  sir, 
I  was  bound  up  to  secrecy,  and  besides  I  thought  as  you  was 
stopping  in  Washington  City,  if  you  knowed  anythink  about 
it  you  might  be  speened  afore  the  court  and  be  obliged  to  tell 
all,  you  know." 

"You  did  quite  right.  Uncle  Eeuben,"  said  Ishmael  affec- 
tionately. 

"  You  call  me  Uncle  Reuben,  sir  ?  " 

"  Why  not.  Uncle  Reuben  ?  and  why  do  you  call  me  sir  ?  " 

"  Well — sir,  because  you  are  a  gentleman  now — not  but  what 
you  allers  was  a  gentleman  by  natur';  but  now  you  are  one  by 
profession.  They  say  you  have  come  to  be  a  lawyer  in  the 
court,  sir,  and  can  stand  up  and  plead  before  the  judges  their'^ 
selves." 

"  I  have  been  admitted  to  the  bar,  Uncle  Reuben.'' 


TEIAL    Al^D    TKIUMPn.  461 

"  Yes,  that's  what  they  call  it ;  see  there  now,  you  know,  I'm 
only  a  poor  ignorant  man,  and  you  have  no  call  to  own  the 
like  o'  me  for  uncle,  'cause,  come  to  the  rights  of  it,  I  aint 
your  uncle  at  all,  sir,  though  your  friend  and  well-wisher  allers ; 
and  to  claim  the  likes  o'  me  as  an  uncle  might  do  you  a  mischief 
with  them  as  thinks  riches  and  family  and  outside  show  and 
book-larning  is  everythink.  So  Ish — sir,  I  mean,  I  won't  tako 
no  offense,  nor  likewise  feel  hurted,  if  you  leaves  off  calling 
of  me  uncle  and  calls  me  plain  '  Gray,'  like  Judge  Merlin  does." 

"  Uncle  Reuben,"  said  Ishmael,  with  feeling,  "  I  am  very 
anxious  to  advance  myself  in  the  world,  very  ambitious  of  dis- 
tinction; but  if  I  thought  worldly  success  would  or  could  es- 
trange me  from  the  friends  of  my  boyhood,  I  would  cease  to 
wish  for  it.  If  I  must  cease  to  be  true,  in  order  to  be  great, 
I  prefer  to  remain  in  obscurity.  Give  me  your  hand.  Uncle 
Reuben,  and  call  me  Islmaael,  and  know  me  for  your  boy." 

"  There,  then,  Ishmael !  I'm  glad  to  find  you  again !  God 
bless  my  boy !  But  law !  what's  the  use  o'  my  axing  of  him  to 
do  that  ?  He'll  do  it  anyways,  without  my  axing !  "  said  Reu- 
ben, pressing  the  hand  of  Ishmael.  "  And  now,''  he  added, 
"  will  you  be  round  to  the  Farmer's  this  evening  to  see  Hannah 
and  the  young  uns  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Uncle  Reuben ;  but  first  I  must  go  and  let  Mrs.  Walsh 
know  that  you  have  brought  her  little  girls  back.  I  suppose  she 
will  think  it  best  to  leave  them  with  her  aunt  until  the  day  of 
trial." 

"  It  will  be  the  safest  place  for  'em !  for  besides  the  old  lady 
being  spunky,  I  shall  be  there  to  protect  'em ;  for  I  mean  to  stay 
till  that  same  said  trial  and  hear  you  make  your  fust  speech 
afore  the  judge,  and  see  that  woman  righted  afore  ever  I  goes 
back  home  again,  ef  it  costs  me  fxfty  dollars." 

"  I'm  afraid  you  will  find  it  very  expensive.  Uncle  Reuben." 

"  ISTo,  I  won't,  sir — Ishmael,  I  mean ;  because,  you  see,  I  fetch 
up  a  lot  o'  spring  chickens  and  eggs  and  early  vegetables,  and 
the  profits  I  shall  get  offen  them  will  pay  my  expenses  here  at 
the  very  least,"  said  Reuben,  as  he  arose  and  stood  waiting  with 
hat  in  hand  for  Ishmael's  motions. 

Ishmael  got  up  and  took  his  own  hat  and  gloves. 

"Be  you  going  round  to  see  the  schoolmist'ess  now,  sir — ■ 
Ishmael,  I  mean  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Uncle  Reuben." 

"  Well,  I  think  I'd  like  to  walk  round  with  you,  if  you  don't 


462  ISH^IAEL  ;   OE,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

mind.  I  kind  o'  want  to  see  the  little  woman,  and  I  kind  o' 
don't  want  to  part  with  you  just  yet,  sir — Ishmael,  I  mean." 

"  Come  along,  then,  Uncle  Eeuben ;  she  will  be  delighted  to 
see  her  children's  kind  protector,  and  I  shall  enjoy  your  com- 
pany on  the  way." 

"And  then,  sir — Ishmael,  T  mean— when  we  have  seen  her, 
you  will  go  back  with  me  to  the  Farmer's  and  see  Hannah  and 
the  little  uns  and  spend  the  evening  long  of  us  ? " 

"  Yes,  Uncle  Eeuben ;  and  I  fancy  Mrs.  Walsh  will  go  with 


■us." 


"  Sartain,  sure,  so  she  will,  sir — Ishmael,  I  mean," 

It  was  too  late  to  find  her  at  the  schoolhouse,  as  it  would  be 
sure  to  be  closed  at  this  hour.  So  they  walked  directly  to  the 
little  suburban  cottage  where  she  lived  with  one  faithful  old 
negro  servant,  who  had  been  her  nurse,  and  with  her  cow  and 
pig  and  poultry  and  her  pet  dog  and  cat.  They  made  her  heart 
glad  with  the  news  of  the  children's  arrival,  and  they  waited 
xmtil,  with  fingers  that  trembled  almost  too  much  to  do  the 
work,  she  put  on  her  bonnet  and  mantle  to  accompany  them 
to  the  Farmer's. 

The  meeting  between  the  mother  and  children  was  very  affect- 
ing. She  informed  them  that,  this  being  Holy  Thursday  eve- 
ning, she  had  dismissed  the  school  for  the  Easter  holidays, 
and  so  could  be  with  them  all  the  time  until  she  should  take 
them  into  court  on  Wednesday  of  the  ensuing  week. 

Then  in  family  council  it  was  arranged  that  both  herself  and 
the  children  should  remain  at  the  Farmer's  until  the  day  of 
the  trial. 

As  soon  as  all  this  matter  was  satisfactorily  settled  Ishmael 
arose  and  bid  them  all  good-night,  promising  to  repeat  his 
visit  often  while  his  relatives  remained  at  the  hotel. 

It  was  late  when  Ishmael  reached  home,  but  the  drawing- 
room  was  ablaze  with  light,  and  as  he  passed  its  open  door 
he  saw  that  its  only  occupants  were  the  Viscount  Vincent 
and  Claudia  Merlin.  They  were  together  on  the  sofa,  talking 
in  low,  confidential  tones.  How  beautiful  she  looked!  smiling 
up  to  the  handsome  face  that  was  bent  in  deferential  admira- 
tion over  hers.  A  pang  of  love  and  jealousy  wrung  Ishmael's 
heart  as  he  hurried  past  and  ran  up  the  stairs  to  his  den.  There 
he  sat  down  at  his  desk,  and,  bidding  vain  dreams  begone,  con- 
centrated his  thoughts  upon  the  work  before  him— the  first 
speech  he  was  to  make  at  the  bar. 


TRIAL   AjS^D    TKIUilPH.  463 

Ishmael  worked  very  hard  the  day  preceding  the  trial ;  he  took 
great  pains  getting  up  his  ease,  not  only  for  his  own  sake,  but 
for  the  sake  of  that  poor  mother  and  her  children  in  whom  he 
felt  so  deeply  interested. 

No  farther  allusion  was  made  to  the  affair  by  any  member 
of  Judge  Merlin's  family  until  Wednesday  morning,  when,  as 
they  all  sat  around  the  breakfast  table,  the  judge  said: 

"  Well,  Ishmael,  the  case  of  Walsh  versus  Walsh  comes  on  to- 
day, I  hear.  How  do  you  feel?  a  little  nervous  over  your  first 
case,  eh? " 

"  Not  yet ;  I  feel  only  great  confidence  in  the  justice  of  my 
cause,  as  an  earnest  of  success." 

"  The  justice  of  his  cause !  Poor  fellow,  how  much  he  has 
to  learn  yet!  Why,  Ishmael,  how  many  times  have  you  seen 
justice  overthrown  by  law  ?  " 

"  Too  many  times,  sir ;  but  there  is  no  earthly  reason  why  that 
should  happen  in  this  case." 

"  Have  5^ou  got  your  maiden  speech  all  cut  and  dried  and 
ready  to  deliver  ?  " 

"  I  have  made  some  notes ;  but  for  the  rest  I  shall  trust  to 
the  inspiration  of  the  instant." 

"  Bad  plan  that.  'Spose  the  inspiration  don't  come  ?  or 
'spose  you  lose  your  presence  of  mind  ?  Better  have  your  speech 
carefully  written  off,  and  then,  inspiration  or  no  inspiration, 
you  will  be  able  to  read,  at  least." 

"  My  notes  are  very  carefully  arranged ;  they  contain  the 
whole  argument." 

"  And  for  the  rest  '  it  shall  be  given  ye  in  that  hour,  what  ye 
shall  speak,'  "  said  Beatrice  earnestly. 

They  all  arose  and  left  the  table. 

"  Thank  you,  dearest  Bee,"  said  Ishmael,  as  he  passed  her. 

"  God  aid  you,  Ishmael ! "  she  replied  fervently. 

He  hurried  upstairs  to  collect  his  documents,  and  then  has- 
tened to  the  City  Hall,  where  Mrs.  Walsh  and  her  children 
were  to  meet  him. 

He  found  them  all  in  the  ante-chamber  of  the  courtroom, 
attended  by  a  bodyguard  composed  of  Reuben,  Hannah,  and  the 
landlady. 

He  spoke  a  few  encouraging  words  to  his  client,  shook  hands 
with  the  members  of  her  party,  and  then  took  them  all  into 
the  courtroom  and  showed  them  their  places.  The  plaintiff 
was  not  present.     The  judges  had  not  yet  taken  their  seats. 


464  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  ES^   THE    DEPTHS. 

And  the  courtroom  was  occupied  only  by  a  few  lawyers,  clerks, 
bailiffs,  constables,  and  other  officials. 

In  a  few  minutes,  however,  the  judges  entered  and  took  their 
seats ;  the  crier  opened  the  court,  the  crowd  poured  i-n,  the  plain- 
tiff with  his  counsel  made  hi-  appearance,  and  the  business  of 
the  day  commenced. 

I  shall  not  give  all  the  details  of  this  trial;  I  shall  only 
glance  at  a  few  of  them. 

The  courtroom  was  full,  but  not  crowded;  nothing  short  of 
a  murder  or  a  divorce  cc.se  ever  draws  a  crowd  to  such  a  place. 

The  counsel  for  the  plaintiff  was  composed  of  three  of  the 
oldest,  ablest,  and  most  experienced  members  of  the  Washing- 
ton bar.  The  first  of  these,  Mr.  Wiseman,  was  distinguished 
for  his  profound  kno-^-ledge  of  the  law,  his  skill  in  logic,  and 
his  closeness  in  res'Miing;  the  second,  Mr.  Berners,  was  cele- 
brated for  his  f"  .■  and  eloquence;  and  the  third,  Mr.  Vivian, 
was  famous  f  ■  his  wit  and  sarcasm.  Engaged  on  one  side, 
they  were  cusidered  invincible.  To  these  three  giants,  with  the 
law  on  their  side,  was  opposed  young  Ishmael,  with  nothing  but 
justice  on  his  side.  Bad  look-out  for  justice !  Well,  so  it  was 
in  that  great  encounter  already  alluded  to  between  Brian  and 
Ivanhoe. 

Mr.  Wiseman,  for  the  plaintiff,  opened  the  case.  He  was  a 
great,  big,  bald-headed  man,  who  laid  down  the  law  as  a  black- 
smith hammers  an  anvil,  in  a  clear,  forcible,  resounding  man- 
ner, leaving  the  defense — as  everybody  declared — not  a  leg  to 
stand  upon. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Worth !  it  is  all  over  with  me,  and  I  shall  die !  '* 
whispered  Mrs.  Walsh,  in  deadly  terror. 

"  Have  patience !  his  speech  does  not  impress  the  court  as  it 
does  you — they  are  used  to  him." 

Witnesses  were  called,  to  prove  as  well  as  they  could  from 
a  bad  set  of  facts,  what  an  excellent  husband  and  father  the 
plaintiff  had  been;  how  affectionate,  how  anxious,  how  zealous 
he  was  for  the  happiness  of  his  wife  and  children — ^leaving  it 
to  be  inferred  that  nothing  on  earth  but  her  own  evil  tendencies 
instigated  the  wife  to  withdraw  herself  and  children  from  his 
protection ! 

"  Heaven  and  earth,  Mr.  Worth,  did  you  ever  hear  anything 
like  that?  They  manage  to  tell  the  literal  truth,  hut  so  per- 
vert it  that  it  is  worse  than  the  worse  falsehood!"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Walsh,  in  a  low  but  indignant  tone. 


TRIAL   AND    TRIUMPH.  465 

"Aye,"  answered  Ishmael,  who  sat,  pencil  and  tablets  ia 
hand,  taking  notes ;  "  aye !  '  a  lie  that  is  half  a  truth  is  ever  the 
blackest  of  lies.'  But  the  court  is  accustomed  to  such  witnesses; 
they  do  not  receive  so  much  credit  as  you  or  they  think." 

Ishmael  did  not  cross-examine  these  witnesses;  the  great 
mass  of  rebutting  testimony  that  he  could  bring  forward,  he 
knew,  must  overwhelm  them.  So  when  the  last  witness  for  the 
plaintiff  had  been  examined,  he  whispered  a  few  cheering  words 
to  the  trembling  woman  by  his  side,  and  rose  for  the  defendant. 
Now,  whenever  a  new  barrister  takes  the  floor  for  the  first  time, 
there  is  always  more  or  less  curiosity  and  commotion  among  the 
old  fogies  of  the  forum. 

What  will  he  turn  out  to  be?  that  is  the  question.  All  eyes 
were  turned  towards  him. 

They  saw  a  tall,  broad-shouldered,  full-chested  young  man, 
who  stood,  with  a  certain  dignity,  looking  upon  the  notes  that 
he  held  in  his  hand;  and  when  he  lifted  his  stately  head  to 
address  the  court  they  saw  that  his  face  was  not  only  beautiful 
in  the  noble  mold  of  the  features,  but  almost  divine  from  the  in- 
spiring soul  within. 

Among  the  eyes  that  gazed  upon  him  were  those  of  the  three 
giants  of  the  law  whom  he  had  now  to  oppose.  They  stared  at 
him  mercilessly — no  doubt  with  the  intention  of  staring  him 
down.  But  they  did  not  even  confuse  him;  for  the  simple  rea- 
son that  he  did  not  look  towards  them.  They  might  stare  them- 
selves stone  blind,  but  they  would  have  no  magnetic  influence 
upon  that  strong,  concentrated,  earnest  soul ! 

Ishmael  was  not  in  the  least  embarrassed  in  standing  up  to 
address  the  court  for  the  first  time,  simply  because  he  was  not 
thinking  of  himself  or  his  audience,  but  of  his  client,  and  her 
case  as  he  wished  to  set  it  forth ;  and  he  was  not  looking  at  the 
spectators,  but  alternately  at  the  court  and  at  the  notes  in  his 
hand. 

He  did  not  make  a  long  opening  like  the  Giant  Wiseman 
had  done;  for  he  wished  to  reserve  himself  for  the  closing 
speech  in  final  reply  to  the  others.  He  just  made  a  plain  state- 
ment of  his  client's  ease  as  it  is  in  part  known  to  the  reader. 

He  told  the  court  how,  at  the  age  of  fifteen,  she  had  been 
decoyed  from  her  mother's  house  and  married  by  the  plaintiff, 
a  man  more  than  twice  her  age;  how  when  she  had  come  into 
her  property  he  had  squandered  it  all  by  a  method  that  he.  the 
plaintiff,  called  speculation,  but  that  others  called  gambling; 


466  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE    DEPTHS. 

how  he  had  then  left  her  in  poverty  and  embarrassment  and 
with  one  child  to  support;  how  he  remained  away  two  years, 
during  which  time  her  friends  had  set  his  wife  up  in  business 
in  a  little  fancy  store.  She  was  prospering  when  he  came  back, 
took  up  his  abode  with  her,  got  into  debt  which  he  could  not 
pay,  and  when  all  her  sto^Tk  and  furniture  was  seized  to  satisfy 
his  creditors,  he  took  himself  off  once  more,  leaving  her  with 
two  children.  She  was  worse  off  than  before ;  her  friends  grum- 
bled, but  once  more  came  to  her  assistance,  set  her  up  a  little 
book  and  news  agency,  the  stock  of  which  was  nearly  all  pur- 
chased on  credit,  and  told  her  plainly  that  if  she  permitted  her 
husband  to  come  and  break  up  her  business  again  they  would 
abandon  and  leave  her  to  her  fate.  ISTotwithstanding  this  warn- 
ing, when  at  the  end  of  seven  or  eight  months  he  came  back 
again  she  received  him  again.  He  stayed  with  her  thirteen 
months;  and  suddenly  disappeared  without  bidding  her  good- 
hy,  leaving  her  within  a  few  weeks  of  becoming  the  mother  of 
a  third  child.  A  few  days  after  his  disappearance  another  exe- 
cution was  put  into  the  house  to  satisfy  a  debt  contracted  by 
him,  and  everything  was  sold  under  the  hammer.  She  was  re- 
duced to  the  last  degree  of  poverty ;  her  friends  held  themselves 
aloof,  disgusted  at  what  they  termed  her  culpable  weakness; 
she  and  her  children  suffered  from  cold  and  hunger ;  and  during 
her  subsequent  illness  she  and  they  must  have  starved  and 
frozen  but  for  the  public  charities,  that  would  not  let  anyone 
in  our  midst  perish  from  want  of  necessary  food  and  fueL 
"When  she  recovered  from  her  illness,  one  relative,  a  widow 
now  present  in  court,  had  from  her  own  narrow  means  supplied! 
the  money  to  rent  and  furnish  a  small  schoolroom,  and  this  most 
hapless  of  women  was  once  more  put  in  a  way  to  earn  daily 
bread  for  herself  and  children.  ISTine  years  passed,  during  which 
she  enjoyed  a  respite  from  the  persecutions  of  the  plaintiff. 
In  these  nine  years,  by  strict  attention  to  business,  untiring 
industry,  she  not  only  paid  off  the  debt  owed  to  her  aged  rela- 
tive, but  she  bought  a  little  cottage  and  garden  in  a  cheap  sub- 
urb, and  furnished  the  house  and  stocked  the  garden.  She 
■was  now  living  a  laborious  but  contented  life  and  rearing  her 
children  in  comfort.  But  now  at  the  end  of  nine  years  comes 
back  the  plaintiff.  Her  husband?  No,  her  enemy!  for  he 
comes,  not  as  he  pretends,  to  cherish  and  protect ;  but  as  he  ever 
came  before,  to  lay  waste  and  destroy!  How  long  could  it  be 
supposed  that  the  mother  would  be  able  to  keep  the  roof  over 


TKIAL   A^^)   TEIUMPH.  467 

the  heads  of  her  children  if  the  plaintiff  \vere  permitted  to 
enter  beneath  it  ^  if  the  court  did  not  protect  her  home  against 
his  invasion,  he  would  again  bring  ruin  and  desolation  vrithin 
its  walls.  They  woiild  prove  by  competent  witnesses  every 
point  in  this  statement  of  the  defendant's  case;  and  then  he 
woidd  demand  for  his  client,  not  only  that  she  should  be  se- 
cured in  the  undisturbed  possession  of  her  children,  her  prop- 
erty, and  her  earnings,  but  that  the  plaintiff  should  be  reqxiired. 
to  contribute  an  annual  sum  of  money  to  the  support  of  the 
defendant  and  her  children,  and  to  give  security  for  its  pay- 
ment. 

"  That's  '  carrying  the  war  into  Africa '  with  a  vengeance," 
whispered  Walsh  to  his  counsel,  as  Ishmael  concluded  his  ad- 
dress. 

He  then  called  the  witnesses  for  the  defendant.  They  were 
numerous  and  of  the  highest  respectability.  Among  them  was 
the  pastor  of  her  parish,  her  family  physician,  and  many  of  the 
patrons  of  her  schooL 

They  testified  to  the  facts  stated  by  her  attorney. 

The  three  giants  did  their  duty  in  the  cross-examining  line 
of  business.  Wiseman  cross-examined  in  a  stem  manner;  Ber- 
ners  in  an  insinuating  way;  and  Vivian  in  a  sarcastic  style; 
but  the  only  effect  of  their  forensic  skill  was  to  bring  out  the 
truth  from  the  witnesses — ^more  clearly,  strongly,  and  impres- 
sively. 

When  the  last  witness  for  the  defendant  had  been  permitted 
to  leave  the  stand  Wiseman  arose  to  address  the  court  on  be- 
half of  the  plaintiff.  He  spoke  in  his  own  peculiar  sledge-ham- 
mer style,  sonorously  striking  the  anvil  and  ringing  all  the 
changes  upon  law,  custom,  precedent,  and  so  forth  that  always 
gave  the  children  into  the  custody  of  the  father.  And  he  ended 
by  demanding  that  the  children  be  at  once  delivered  over  to  his 
client. 

He  was  followed  by  Bemers,  who  had  charge  of  the  eloquence 
"business"  of  that  stage,  and  dealt  in  pathos,  tears,  white 
pocket  handkerchiefs,  and  poetical  quotations.  He  drew  a  most 
heart-rending  picture  of  the  broken-spirited  husband  and 
father,  rejected  by  an  unforgiving  wife  and  ill-conditioned 
children,  becoming  a  friendless  and  houseless  wanderer  over 
the  wide  world ;  in  danger  of  being  driven,  by  despair,  to  mad- 
ness and  suicide!  He  compared  the  plaintiff  to  Byron,  whose 
poetry  he  liberally  quoted.     And  he  concluded  by  imploring 


4G8  isHMAEL ;  OR,  i]sr  the  depths. 

the  court,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  to  intervene  and  save  his  un- 
happy client  from  the  gulf  of  perdition  to  which  his  implacable 
wife  would  drive  him.  And  he  sank  down  in  his  seat  utterly 
overwhelmed  by  his  feelings  and  holding  a  drift  of  white  cam- 
bric to  his  face. 

"  Am  I  such  an  out-and-out  monster,  Mr.  Worth  s  "  whis"» , 
pered  Mrs.  Walsh,  in  dismay. 

Ishmael  smiled. 

"  Everybody   knows   Berners — his   '  madness '    and   '  suicide, 
his  '  gulf  of  perdition '  and  his  white  cambric  pocket-handker- 
chief are  recognized  institutions.     See !  the  judge  is  actually 
smiling  over  it." 

Mr.  Vivian  arose  to  follow — he  did  up  the  genteel  comedy; 
he  kept  on  hand  a  supply  of  "  little  jokes  "  gleaned  from  Joe 
Miller,  .current  comic  literature,  dinner  tables,  clubs,  etc. — 
"  little  jokes "  of  which  every  point  in  his  discourse  contin- 
ually reminded  him,  though  his  hearers  could  not  always  per- 
ceive the  association  of  ideas.  This  gentleman  v/as  very  fa- 
cetious over  family  jars,  which  reminded  him  of  a  "  little  joke,'* 
which  he  told;  he  was  also  very  witty  upon  the  subject  of  mat- 
rimonial disputes  in  particular,  which  reminded  him  of  an- 
other "  little  jcke,"  which  he  also  told ;  but  most  of  all,  he  was. 
amused  at  the  caprice  of  womankind,  who  very  often  rather 
liked  to  be  compelled  to  do  as  they  pleased,  which  reminded 
him  of  a  third  "  little  joke."  And  if  the  court  should  allow  the 
defendant  the  exclusive  possession  of  her  children  and  a  sepa- 
rate maintenance,  it  was  highly  probable  that  she  would  not 
thank  them  for  their  trouble,  but  would  take  the  first  oppor- 
tunity of  voluntarily  reconciling  herself  to  her  husband  and 
giving  him  back  herself,  her  home,  and  her  children,  which 
would  be  equal  to  any  "little  joke"  he  had  ever  heard  in  his 
life,  etc.,  etc.,  etc. 

The  audience  were  all  in  a  broad  grin.  Even  Mrs.  Walsh, 
with  her  lips  of  "  life-long  sadness,"  smiled. 

"  You  may  smile  at  him,"  said  Ishmael,  "  and  so  will  I,  since 
I  do  not  at  all  doubt  the  issue  of  this  trial;  but  for  all  that, 
joker  as  he  is,  he  is  the  most  serious  opponent  that  we  have. 
I  would  rather  encounter  half  a  dozen  each  of  Wisemans  and 
Berners  than  one  Vivian.  Take  human  nature  in  general,  it 
can  be  more  easily  laughed  than  reasoned  or  persuaded  in  or 
out  of  any  measure.  People  would  rather  laugh  than  weep  or 
reflect.     Wiseman  tries  to  make  them  reflect,  which  they  won't 


THE    YOUNG    CHA:JIPIO]Sr.  469 

do;  Bcrners  tries  to  make  them  weep,  which  they  can't  do;  but 
Vivian  with  his  jokes  makes  them  laugh,  which  they  like  to 
do.  And  so,  he  has  joked  himself  into  a  very  large  practice  at 
the  Washington  bar." 

But  the  facetious  barrister  was  bringing  his  speech  to  a 
close,  with  a  brilliant  little  joke  that  eclipsed  all  the  preceding 
ones  and  set  the  audience  in  a  roar.  And  when  the  laughter 
had  subsided,  he  finally  ended  by  expressing  a  hope  that  the 
court  would  not  so  seriously  disappoint  and  so  cruelly  wrong 
the  defendant  as  by  giving  a  decision  in  her  favor. 


CHAPTER  LVII. 

THE  YOUNG  CHAMPION. 

Then  uprose  Gismond  ;  and  she  knew 

That  Bhe  was  saved.  Some  never  met 
His  face  before  ;  bnt  at  first  view 

They  felt  quite  sure  that  God  had  set 
Himself  to  Satan  ;  who  conld  spend 

A  minute's  mistrust  on  the  end  ? 

This  pleased  her  most,  that  she  enjoyed 
The  heart  of  her  joy,  with  her  content 

In  watching  Gismond,  nnalloj'ed 
By  any  doubt  of  the  event  ; 

God  took  that  on  him — she  was  bid 
Watch  Gismond  for  her  jjart!    She  did, 

— Browning. 

Ishmael  waited  a  few  minutes  for  the  excitement  produced 
by  the  last  address  to  subside — the  last  address  that  in  its 
qualities  and  effects  had  resembled  champagne — sparkling  but 
transient,  effervescent  but  evanescent.  And  when  order  had 
been  restored  Ishmael  arose  amid  a  profound  silence  to  make  his 
maiden  speech,  for  the  few  opening  remarks  he  had  made  in 
initiating  the  defense  could  scarcely  be  called  a  speech.  Once 
more  then  all  eyes  were  fixed  upon  him  in  expectancy.  And, 
as  before,  he  was  undisturbed  by  these  regards  because  he  was 
unconscious  of  them;  and  he  was  calm  because  he  was  not 
thinking  of  himself  or  of  the  figure  he  was  making,  but  of  his 
client  and  her  cause.  He  did  not  care  to  impress  the  crowd,  he 
only  wished  to  affect  the  court.  So  little  did  he  think  of  the 
spectators  in  the  room,  that  he  did  not  observe  that  Judge  Mer- 


470  ISHMAEL  ;   OE,  IN    THE    DEPTHS. 

lin,  Claudia,  and  Beatrice  were  among  them,  seated  in  a  distant 
corner — Judge  Merlin  and  Claudia  were  watching  him  with 
curiosity,  and  Bee  with  the  most  affectionate  anxiety.  His  at- 
tention was  confined  to  the  judges,  the  counsel,  his  client,  and 
the  memoranda  in  his  hand.  He  had  a  strong  confidence  in 
the  justice  of  his  cause ;  perfect  faith  in  the  providence  of  God ; 
and  sanguine  hopes  of  success. 

True,  he  had  arrayed  against  him  an  almost  overpowering 
force:  the  husband  of  his  client,  and  the  three  great  guns  of 
the  bar — Wiseman,  Berners,  and  Vivian,  with  law,  custom,  and 
precedent.  But  with  him  stood  the  angels  of  Justice  and 
Mercy,  invisible,  but  mighty;  and,  over  all,  the  Omnipotent 
God,  unseen,  but  all-seeing! 

Ishmael  possessed  the  minor  advantages  of  youth,  manly 
beauty,  a  commanding  presence,  a  gracious  smile,  and  a  sweet, 
deep,  sonorous  voice.  He  was  besides  a  new  orator  among 
them,  with  a  fresh  original  style. 

He  was  no  paid  attorney;  it  was  not  his  pocket  that  was  in- 
terested, but  his  sympathies;  his  whole  heart  and  soul  were  in 
the  cause  that  he  had  embraced,  and  he  brought  to  bear  upon  it 
all  the  genius  of  his  powerful  mind. 

I  would  like  to  give  you  the  whole  of  this  great  speech  that 
woke  up  the  Washington  court  from  its  state  of  semi-somno- 
lency and  roused  it  to  the  sense  of  the  unjust  and  cruel  things 
it  sometimes  did  when  talking  in  its  sleep.  But  I  have  only  time 
and  space  to  glance  at  some  of  its  points ;  and  if  anyone  wishes 
to  see  more  of  it,  it  may  be  found  in  the  published  works  of 
the  great  jurist  and  orator. 

He  began  to  speak  with  modest  confidence  and  in  clear,  con- 
cise, and  earnest  terms.  He  said  that  the  court  had  heard 
from  the  learned  counsel  that  had  preceded  him  a  great  deal 
of  law,  sentiment,  and  wit.  From  him  they  should  now  hear 
of  justice,  mercy,  and  truth! 

He  reverted  to  the  story  of  the  woman's  wrongs,  sufferings, 
and  struggles,  continued  through  many  years;  he  spoke  of  her 
love,  patience,  and  forbearance  under  the  severest  trials;  he 
dwelt  upon  the  prolonged  absence  of  her  husband,  prolonged 
through  so  many  weary  years,  and  the  false  position  of  the  for- 
saken wife,  a  position  so  much  worse  than  widowhood,  inas- 
much as  it  exposed  her  not  only  to  all  the  evils  of  poverty,  but 
to  suspicion,  calumny,  and  insult.  But  he  bade  them  note 
how  the  woman  had  passed  through  the  fire  unharmed;  how 


THE    YOUNG    CHAMnOTT.  471 

she  had  fought  the  battle  of  life  bravely  and  come  out  vic- 
toriously; how  she  had  labored  on  in  honorable  industry  for 
years,  until  she  had  secured  a  home  for  herself  and  little  girls. 
He  spoke  plainly  of  the  arrival  of  the  fugitive  husband  as  the 
coming  of  the  destroyer  who  had  three  times  before  laid  waste 
her  home ;  he  described  the  terror  and  distress  his  very  presence 
in  the  city  had  brought  to  that  little  home;  the  flight  of  the 
mother  with  her  children,  and  her  agony  of  anxiety  to  con- 
ceal them ;  he  dwelt  upon  the  cruel  position  of  the  woman  whose 
natural  protector  has  become  her  natural  enemy;  he  reminded 
the  court  that  it  had  required  the  mother  to  take  her  trembling 
little  ones  from  their  places  of  safety  and  concealment  and  to 
bring  them  forward;  and  now  that  they  were  here  he  felt  a 
perfect  confidence  that  the  court  would  extend  the  aegis  of  its 
authority  over  these  helpless  ones,  since  that  would  be  the  only 
shield  they  could  have  under  heaven.  He  spoke  noble  words 
in  behalf  not  only  of  his  client,  but  of  woman — woman,  loving, 
feeble,  and  oppressed  from  the  beginning  of  time — woman, 
hardly  dealt  with  by  nature  in  the  first  place,  and  by  the  laws, 
made  by  her  natural  lover  and  protector,  man,  in  the  second 
place.  Perhaps  it  was  because  he  knew  himself  to  be  the  son  of 
a  woman  only,  even  as  his  Master  had  been  before  him,  that  he 
poured  so  much  of  awakening,  convicting,  and  condemning  fire, 
force,  and  weight  into  this  part  of  his  discourse.  He  uttered 
thoughts  and  feelings  upon  this  subject,  original  and  startling 
at  that  time,  but  which  have  since  been  quoted,  both  in  the 
Old  and  New  World,  and  have  had  power  to  modify  those  cruel 
laws  which  at  that  period  made  woman,  despite  her  understand- 
ing intellect,  an  idiot,  and  despite  her  loving  heart  a  chattel — 
in  the  law. 

It  had  been  the  time-honored  prerogative  and  the  invariable 
custom  of  the  learned  judges  of  this  court  to  go  to  sleep  during 
the  pleadings  of  the  lawyers;  but  upon  this  occasion  they  did 
not  indulge  in  an  afternoon  nap,  I  assure  you ! 

He  next  reviewed  the  testimony  of  the  witnesses  of  the  plain- 
tiff; complimented  them  on  the  ingenuity  they  had  displayed 
in  making  "  the  worst  appear  the  better  cause,"  by  telling  half 
the  truth  and  ignoring  the  other  half;  but  warned  the  court 
at  the  same  time 

"  That  a  lie  -which  is  half  a  truth,  is  ever  the  blackest  of  lies, 
That  a  lie  which  is  all  a  lie  may  be  met  and  fought  with  outright; 
But  a  lie  which  is  part  a  truth,  is  a  harder  matter  to  fight." 


472  iSHMAEL ;  OR,  nr  the  depths. 

Then  he  reviewed  in  turn  the  speeches  of  the  counsel  foi 
the  plaintiff — first  that  of  Wiseman,  the  ponderous  law-ex- 
pounder, which  he  answered  with  quite  as  much  law  and  a  great 
deal  more  equity;  secondly,  that  of  Berners,  the  tear-pumper, 
the  false  sentiment  of  which  he  exposed  and  criticised;  and 
thirdly  that  of  Vivian,  the  laugh-provoker,  with  which  he  dealt 
the  most  severely  of  all,  saying  that  one  who  could  turn  into 
jest  the  most  sacred  affections  and  most  serious  troubles  of  do- 
mestic life,  the  heart's  tragedy,  the  household  wreck  before 
them,  could  be  capable  of  telling  funny  stories  at  his  father's 
funeral,  uttering  good  jokes  over  his  mother's  coffin. 

He  spoke  for  two  hours,  warming,  glowing,  rising  with  his 
subject,  until  his  very  form  seemed  to  dilate  in  grandeur,  and  his 
face  grew  radiant  as  the  face  of  an  archangel;  and  those  who 
heard  seemed  to  think  that  his  lips  like  those  of  the  prophet  of 
old  had  been  touched  with  fire  from  heaven.  Under  the  inspira- 
tion of  the  hour,  he  spoke  truths  new  and  startling  then,  but 
■which  have  since  resounded  through  the  senate  chambers  of 
the  world,  changing  the  laws  of  the  nations  in  regard  to  woman. 

Nora,  do  you  see  your  son?  Oh,  was  it  not  well  worth  while 
to  have  loved,  suffered,  and  died,  only  to  have  given  him  to  the 
world ! 

It  was  a  complete  success.  All  his  long,  patient,  painful 
years  of  struggle  were  rewarded  now.  It  was  one  splendid  leap 
from  obscurity  to  fame. 

The  giants  attempted  to  answer  him,  but  it  was  of  no  use. 
After  the  freshness,  the  fire,  the  force,  the  heart,  soul,  and  life 
in  Ishmael's  utterances,  their  old,  familiar,  well-worn  styles, 
in  which  the  same  arguments,  pathos,  wit  that  had  done  duty 
in  so  many  other  eases  was  paraded  again,  only  bored  their 
hearers.  In  vain  Wiseman  appealed  to  reason;  Berners  to 
feeling;  and  Vivian  to  humor;  they  would  not  do:  the  court 
had  often  heard  all  that  before,  and  grown  heartily  tired  of  it. 
Wiseman's  wisdom  was  found  to  be  foolishness;  Berner's  pa- 
thos laughable;  and  Vivian's  humor  grievous. 

The  triumvirate  of  the  Washington  bar  were  dethroned,  and 
Prince  Ishmael  reigned  in  their  stead. 

A  few  hours  later  the  decision  of  the  court  was  made  known. 
It  had  granted  all  that  the  young  advocate  had  asked  for  his 
client — the  exclusive  possession  of  her  children,  her  property, 
and  her  earnings,  and  also  alimony  from  her  husband. 

As  Ishmael  passed  out  of  the  court  amid  the  tearfxil  thanks 


THE    YOUNG    CHAMPION.  473 

of  the  mother  and  her  children,  and  the  proud  congratulations 
of  honest  Reuben  and  Hannah,  he  neared  the  group  composed 
of  Judge  Merlin,  Claudia,  and  Beatrice. 

Judge  Merlin  looked  smiling  and  congratulatory;  he  shook 
hands  with  j'oung  barrister,  saying: 

"  Well,  Ishmael,  you  have  rather  waked  up  the  world  to-day, 
haven't  you  ? " 

Bee  looked  perfectly  radiant  with  joy.  Her  fingers  closed 
spasmodically  on  the  hand  that  Ishmael  offered  her,  and  she 
exclaimed,  a  little  incoherently: 

"  Oh,  Ishmael,  I  always  knew  you  could !     I  am  so  happy ! " 

"  Thank  you,  dearest  Bee !  Under  Divine  Providence  I  owe 
a  great  deal  of  my  success  to-day  to  your  sjTapathy." 

Claudia  did  not  speak;  she  was  deadly  pale  and  cold;  her 
face  was  like  marble  and  her  hand  like  ice,  as  she  gave  it  to 
Ishmael.  She  had  always  appreciated  and  loved  him  against 
her  will;  but  now,  in  this  hour  of  his  triumph,  when 
he  had  discovered  to  the  world  his  real  power  and  worth,  her 
love  rose  to  an  anguish  of  longing  that  she  knew  her  pride  must 
forever  deny;  and  so  when  Ishmael  took  her  hand  and  looked  in 
her  face  for  the  words  of  sjonpathy  that  his  heart  was  hunger- 
ing to  receive  from  her  of  all  the  world,  she  could  not  speak. 

Ishmael  passed  out  with  his  friends.  When  he  had  gone,  a 
stranger  who  had  been  watching  him  with  the  deepest  interest 
during  the  whole  course  of  the  trial,  now  came  forward,  and, 
with  an  agitation  impossible  to  conceal,  hastily  inquired : 

"  Judge  Merlin,  for  Heaven's  sake !  who  is  that  young  man  ?  " 

*'  Eh !  what !  Brudenell,  you  here !     When  did  you  arrive  ?  " 

"  This  morning !  But  for  the  love  of  Heaven  who  is  that 
young  man  ? " 

"  Who  ?  why  the  most  talented  young  barrister  of  the  day — 
a  future  chief  justice,  attorney-general.  President  of  the  United 
States,  for  aught  I  know!  It  looks  like  it,  for  whatever  may 
be  the  aspirations  of  the  boy,  his  intellect  and  will  are  sure 
to  realize  them !  " 

"  Yes,  but  who  is  he  ?  what  is  his  name  ?  who  were  his  parents  ? 
where  was  he  born  ? "  demanded  Herman  Brudenell  excitedly. 

"  Why,  the  Lord  bless  my  soul  alive,  man !  He  is  a  self-made 
barrister;  his  name  is  Ishmael  Worth;  his  mother  was  a  poor 
"weaver  girl  named  Nora  Worth;  his  father  was  an  unknown 
scoundrel;  he  was  born  at  a  little  hut  near Why,  Bru- 
denell, you  ought  to  know  all  about  it — near  Brudenell  Hall ! " 


474  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN    THE   DEPTHS. 

"  Heaven  and  earth !  " 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

"  The  close  room — the  crowd — and  this  oppression  of  the 
chest  that  I  have  had  so  many  years !  "  gasped  Herman  Bru- 
denell- 

"  Get  into  my  carriage  and  come  home  with  us.  Come — I 
will  take  no  denial !  The  hotels  are  overcrowded.  We  can  send 
for  your  luggage.     Come !  " 

"  Thank  you;  I  think  I  will." 

"  Claudia !  Beatrice !  come  forward,  my  dears.  Here  is  Mr. 
Brudenell." 

Courtesies  were  exchanged,  and  they  all  went  out  and  entered 
the  carriage. 

"  I  will  introduce  you  to  this  young  man,  who  has  so  much 
interested  you,  and  all  the  world,  in  fact,  I  suppose.  He  is 
living  with  us ;  and  he  will  be  a  lion  from  to-day,  I  assure  you," 
said  the  judge,  as  soon  as  they  were  all  seated. 

"  Thank  you !  I  was  interested  in — in  those  two  poor  sis- 
ters.    One  died — what  has  become  of  the  other  ?  " 

"  She  married  my  overseer,  Gray ;  they  are  doing  well.  They 
are  in  the  city  on  a  visit  at  present,  stopping  at  the  Farmer's- 
opposite  Center  Market." 

"  Who  educated  this  young  man  ?  " 

"  Himself." 

"  Did  this  unknown  father  make  no  provision  for  him  ? " 

"  None — the  rascal !  The  boy  was  as  poor  as  poverty  could 
make  him;  but  he  worked  for  his  own  living  from  the  time 
he  was  seven  years  old." 

Herman  had  feared  as  much,  for  he  doubted  the  check  he 
had  written  and  left  for  Hannah  had  ever  been  presented  and 
cashed,  for  in  the  balancing  of  his  bankbook  he  never  saw  it 
among  the  others. 

Meanwhile  Ishmael  had  parted  with  his  friends  and  gone 
home  to  the  Washington  House.  He  knew  that  he  had  had  a 
glorious  success ;  but  he  took  no  vain  credit  to  himself ;  he  was 
only  happy  that  his  service  had  been  a  free  offering  to  a  good 
cause ;  and  very  thankful  that  it  had  been  crowned  with  victory. 
And  when  he  reached  home  he  went  up  to  his  little  chamber, 
knelt  down  in  humble  gratitude,  and  rendered  all  the  glory 
to  God! 


HERMAN   BRUDENELL.  475 

CHAPTEK  LVIII. 

HERMAN  BRUDENELL. 

My  son  !    I  Reem  to  breathe  that  word, 

In  utterance  more  clear 
Than  other  words,  more  slowly  round 
I  move  my  lips,  to  keep  the  sound 

Still  lingering  in  my  ear. 

For  were  my  lonely  life  allowed 

To  claim  that  gifted  son, 
I  should  be  met  by  straining  eyes, 
Welcoming  tears  and  grateful  sighs 

To  hallow  my  retxiru. 

But  between  me  and  that  dear  son 

There  lies  a  bar,  I  feul. 
More  hard  to  pass,  more  girt  with  awe, 
Than  any  power  of  injured  law, 

Or  front  of  bristling  steel. 

— Milnes. 

When  the  carriage  containing  Judge  Merlin,  Claudia,  Bea- 
trice, and  Mr.  Brudenell  reached  the  Washington  House  the 
party  separated  in  the  hall;  the  ladies  went  each  to  her  own 
chamber  to  dress  for  dinner,  and  Judge  Merlin  called  a  servant 
to  show  Mr.  Brudenell  to  a  spare  room,  and  then  went  to  his 
own   apartment. 

When  Herman  Brudenell  had  dismissed  his  attendant  and 
found  himself  alone  he  sat  down  in  deep  thought. 

Since  the  death  of  Nora  he  had  been  a  wanderer  over  the  face 
of  the  earth.  The  revenues  of  his  estate  had  been  mostly  paid 
over  to  his  mother  for  the  benefit  of  herself  and  her  daughters, 
yet  had  scarcely  been  sufficient  for  the  pride,  vanity,  and  ex- 
travagance of  those  foolish  women,  who,  living  in  Paris  and 
introduced  into  court  circles  by  the  American  minister,  aped 
the  style  of  the  wealthiest  among  the  French  aristocracy,  and 
indulged  in  the  most  expensive  establishment,  equipage,  retinue, 
dress,  jewelry,  balls,  etc.,  in  the  hope  of  securing  alliances  among- 
the  old  nobility  of  France. 

They  might  as  well  have  gambled  for  thrones.  The  princes,, 
dukes,  marquises,  and  counts  drank  their  wines,  ate  their  din- 
ners, danced  at  their  balls,  kissed  their  hands,  and — ^laughed  at 
them! 

The  reason  was  this :  the  Misses  Brudenell,  though  well-bom. 


476  ISHMAEL  ;    OK,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

pretty,  and  accomplished,  were  not  wealthy,  and  were  even  sus- 
pected of  being  heavily  in  debt,  because  of  all  this  show. 

And  I  would  here  inform  my  ambitious  American  readers 
who  go  abroad  in  search  of  titled  husbands  whom  they  cannot 
find  at  home,  that  what  is  going  on  in  Paris  then  is  going  on  in 
all  the  Old  World  capitals  now ;  and  that  now,  when  foreign  no- 
blemen marry  American  girls,  it  is  because  the  former  want 
money  and  the  latter  have  it.  If  there  is  any  exception  to  this 
rule,  I,  for  one,  never  heard  of  it. 

And  so  the  Misses  Brudenell,  failing  to  marry  into  the  no- 
bility, were  not  married  at  all. 

The  expenditures  of  the  mother  and  daughters  in  this  specu- 
lation were  enormous,  so  much  so  that  at  length  Herman  Bru- 
denell, reckless  as  he  was,  became  alarmed  at  finding  himseK  on 
the  very  verge  of  insolvency! 

He  had  signed  so  many  blank  checks,  which  his  mother  and 
sisters  had  filled  up  with  figures  so  much  higher  than  he  had 
reckoned  upon,  that  at  last  his  Paris  bankers  had  written  to  him 
informing  him  that  his  account  had  been  so  long  and  so  much 
overdrawn  that  they  had  been  obliged  to  decline  cashing  his  last 
checks. 

It  was  this  that  had  startled  Herman  Brudenell  out  of  his 
lethargy  and  goaded  him  to  look  into  his  affairs.  After  ex- 
amining his  account  with  his  Paris  banker  with  very  unsatis- 
factory results,  he  determined  to  retrench  his  own  personal 
expenses,  to  arrange  his  estates  upon  the  most  productive  plan, 
and  to  let  out  Brudenell  Hall. 

He  wrote  to  the  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux,  requesting  her 
-to  vacate  the  premises,  and  to  his  land-agent  instructing  him 
to  let  the  estate. 

In  due  course  of  time  he  received  answers  to  both  his  let- 
ters. That  of  the  countess  we  have  already  seen;  that  of  the 
land-agent  informing  him  of  the  vast  improvement  of  the  estate 
during  the  residence  of  the  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux  upon 
it,  and  of  the  accumulation  of  its  revenues,  and  finally  of  the 
large  sum  placed  to  his  credit  in  the  local  bank  by  her  ladyship. 

This  sum,  of  course,  every  sentiment  of  honor  forbade  Her- 
man Brudenell  from  appropriating.  He  therefore  caused  it  to 
be  withdrawn  amd  deposited  with  Lady  Hurstmonceux's 
London  bankers. 

Soon  after  this  he  received  notice  that  Brudenell  Hall, 
stocked  and  furnished  as  it  was,  had  been  let  to  Mr.  Middleton- 


HERMAN    BRUDENELL.  477 

The  accumulated  revenues  of  the  estate  he  devoted  to  paying 
his  mother's  debts,  and  the  current  revenues  to  her  support, 
warning  her  at  the  same  time  of  impending  embarrassments  un- 
less her  expenses  were  retrenched. 

But  the  warning  was  unheeded,  and  the  folly  and  extravagance 
of  his  mother  and  sisters  were  unabated.  Like  all  other  des- 
perate gamblers,  the  heavier  their  losses  the  greater  became 
their  stakes ;  they  went  on  living  in  the  best  hotels,  keeping  the 
most  expensive  servants,  driving  the  purest  blooded  horses, 
wearing  the  richest  dresses  and  the  rarest  jewels,  giving  the 
grandest  balls,  and — to  use  a  common  but  strong  phrase — "  go- 
ing it  with  a  rush !  "  All  in  the  desperate  hope  of  securing  for 
the  young  ladies  wealthy  husbands  from  among  the  titled 
aristocracy. 

At  length  came  another  crisis;  and  once  more  Herman  Bru- 
denell  was  compelled  to  intervene  between  them  and  ruin.  This 
he  did  at  a  vast  sacrifice  of  property. 

He  wrote  and  gave  Mr.  Middleton  warning  to  leave  Bru- 
denell  Hall  at  the  end  of  the  year,  because,  he  said,  that  he  him- 
self wished  to  return  thither. 

He  did  return  thither;  but  it  was  only  to  sell  off,  gradually 
and  privately,  all  the  stock  on  the  home-farm,  all  the  plate,  rich 
furniture,  rare  pictures,  statues,  vases,  and  articles  of  virtu 
in  the  house,  and  all  the  old  plantation  negroes — ancient  ser- 
vants who  had  lived  for  generations  on  the  premises. 

While  he  was  at  this  work  he  instituted  cautious  inquiries 
about  "  one  of  the  tenants,  Hannah  Worth,  the  weaver,  who 
lived  at  Hill  hut,  with  her  nephew  " ;  and  he  learned  that  Han- 
nah was  prosperously  married  to  Eeuben  Gray  and  had  left 
the  neighborhood  with  her  nephew,  who  had  received  a  good 
education  from  Mr.  Middleton's  family  school.  Brudenell 
subsequently  received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Middleton  himself, 
recommending  to  his  favorable  notice  "  a  young  man  named 
Ishmael  Worth,  living  on  the  Brudenell  estates." 

But  as  the  youth  had  left  the  neighborhood  with  his  relatives, 
and  as  Mr.  Brudenell  really  hoped  that  he  was  well  provided 
for  by  the  large  sum  of  money  for  which  he  had  given  Hannah 
a  check  on  the  day  of  his  departure,  and  as  he  was  overwhelmed 
with  business  cares,  and  lastly,  as  he  dreaded  rather  than  de- 
sired a  meeting  with  his  unknown  son,  he  deferred  seeking 
him  out. 

When  Brudenell  Hall  was  entirely  dismantled,  and  all  the 


478  ishjiael;  oe,  rx  the  depths. 

furniture  of  the  house,  the  stock  of  the  farm,  and  the  negroes 
of  the  plantation,  and  all  the  land  except  a  few  acres  imme- 
diately around  the  house  had  been  sold,  and  the  purchase 
money  realized,  he  returned  to  Paris,  settled  his  mother's  debts, 
and  warning  her  that  they  had  now  barely  sufficient  to  support 
them  in  moderate  comfort,  entreated  her  to  return  and  live 
quietly  at  Brudenell  Hall. 

But  no !  "  If  they  were  poor,  so  much  the  more  reason  why 
the  girls  should  marry  rich,"  argued  Mrs.  Brudenell;  and  in- 
stead of  retrenching  her  expenses,  she  merely  changed  the  scene 
of  her  operations  from  Paris  to  London,  forgetting  the  fact 
everyone  else  remembered,  that  her  "  girls,"  though  still  hand- 
some, because  well  preserved,  were  now  mature  women  of 
thirty-two  and  thirty-five.  Herman  promised  to  give  them  the 
whole  proceeds  of  his  property,  reserving  to  himself  barely 
enough  to  live  on  in  the  most  economical  manner.  And  he  let 
Brudenell  Hall  once  more,  and  took  up  his  abode  at  a  cheap 
•watering-place  on  the  continent,  where  he  remained  for  years, 
passing  his  time  in  reading,  fishing,  boating,  and  other  idle  sea- 
side pastimes,  until  he  was  startled  from  his  repose  by  a  letter 
from  his  mother — a  letter  full  of  anguish,  telling  him  that  her 
younger  daughter,  Eleanor,  had  fled  from  home  in  company  with 
a  certain  Captain  Dugald,  and  that  she  had  traced  them  to 
I/iverpool,  whence  they  had  sailed  for  New  York,  and  entreated 
him  to  follow  and  if  possible  save  his  sister. 

Upon  this  miserable  errand  he  had  revisited  his  native  coun- 
try. He  had  found  no  such  name  as  Dugald  in  any  of  the  lists 
of  passengers  arrived  within  the  specified  time  by  any  of  the 
ocean  steamers  from  Liverpool  to  New  York,  and  no  such  name 
on  any  of  the  hotel  books;  so  he  left  the  matter  in  the  hands 
of  a  skillful  detective,  and  came  down  to  Washington,  in  the 
hope  of  finding  the  fugitives  here. 

On  his  first  walk  out  he  had  been  attracted  by  the  crowd 
around  the  City  Hall;  had  learned  that  an  interesting  trial 
was  going  on;  and  that  some  strange,  new  lawyer  was  making 
a  great  speech.  He  had  gone  in,  and  on  turning  his  eyes  to- 
wards the  young  barrister  had  been  thunderstruck  on  being 
confronted  by  what  seemed  to  him  the  living  face  of  Nora 
"Worth,  elevated  to  masculine  grandeur.  Those  were  Nora's 
lips,  so  beautiful  in  form,  color,  and  expression ;  Nora's  splendid 
eyes,  that  blazed  with  indignation,  or  melted  with  pity,  or  smiled 
with  humor ;  Nora's  magnificent  breadth  of  brow,  spanning  from 


HERMAN    BRTTDENELL.  479 

temple  to  temple.  He  saw  in  these  remarkable  features  so 
much  of  the  likeness  of  Nora,  that  he  failed  to  see,  in  the  height 
of  the  forehead,  the  outline  of  the  profile,  and  the  occasional 
expression  of  the  countenance,  the  striking  likeness  of  himself. 

He  had  been  spellbound  by  this,  and  by  the  eloquence  of  the 
young  barrister  until  the  end  of  the  speech,  when  he  had  has- 
tened to  Judge  Merlin  and  demanded  the  name  and  the  history 
of  the  debutante. 

And  the  answer  had  confirmed  the  prophetic  instincts  of  his 
heart — this  rising  star  of  the  forum  was  Nora's  son ! 

Nora's  son,  born  in  the  depths  of  poverty  and  shame;  pant- 
ing from  the  hour  of  his  birth  for  the  very  breath  of  life;  work- 
ing from  the  days  of  his  infancy  for  daily  bread;  striving  from 
the  years  of  his  boyhood  for  knowledge ;  struggling  by  the  most 
marvelous  series  of  persevering  effort  out  of  the  slough  of  in- 
famy into  which  he  had  been  cast,  to  his  present  height  of 
honor!  Scarcely  twenty-one  years  old  and  already  recognized 
not  only  as  the  most  gifted  and  promising  young  member  of 
the  bar,  but  as  a  rising  power  among  the  people. 

How  proud  he,  the  childless  man,  would  be  to  own  his  share 
in  Nora's  gifted  son,  if  in  doing  so  he  could  avoid  digging  up 
the  old,  cruel  reproach,  the  old,  forgotten  scandal !  How  proud 
to  hail  Ishmael  Worth  as  Ishmael  Brudenell! 

But  this  he  knew  could  never,  never  be.  Every  principle  of 
honor,  delicacy,  and  prudence  forbade  him  now  to  interfere 
in  the  destiny  of  Nora's  long-ignorant  and  neglected,  but  gifted 
and  rising  son.  With  what  face  could  he,  the  decayed,  impover- 
ished, almost  forgotten  master  of  Brudenell  Hall  go  to  this 
brilliant  young  barrister,  who  had  just  made  a  splendid  debut 
and  achieved  a  dazzling  success,  and  say  to  him : 

"  I  am  your  father !  " 

And  how  should  he  explain  such  a  relationship  to  the  aston- 
ished young  man?  At  making  the  dreadful  confession,  he  felt 
that  he  should  be  likely  to  drop  at  the  feet  of  his  own  son. 

No!  Ishmael  Worth  must  remain  Ishmael  Worth.  If  he 
fulfilled  the  promise  of  his  youth,  it  would  not  be  his  father's 
name,  but  his  young  mother's  maiden  name  which  would  be- 
come illustrious  in  his  person. 

And  yet,  from  the  first  moment  of  his  seeing  Ishmael  and 
identifying  him  as  Nora's  son,  he  felt  an  irresistible  desire  to 
meet  him  face  to  face,  to  shake  hands  with  him,  to  talk  with 
him,  to  become  acquainted  with  him,  to  be  friends  with  him. 


480  ISHMAEL  ;    on,  IX   THE    DEPTHS. 

It  was  this  longing  that  urged  Mr.  Brudenell  to  accept  Judge 
Merlin's  invitation  and  accompany  the  latter  home.  And  now 
in  a  few  moments  this  longing  would  be  gratified. 

In  the  midst  of  all  other  troubled  thoughts  one  question  per- 
plexed him.  It  was  this:  What  had  become  of  the  check  he 
had  given  Hannah  in  the  hour  of  his  departure  years  ago? 

That  it  had  never  been  presented  and  cashed  two  circum- 
stances led  him  to  fear.  The  first  was  that  he  had  never  seen 
it  among  those  returned  to  him  when  his  bankbook  had  been 
made  up;  and  the  second  was  that  Hannah  had  shared  the  bit- 
ter poverty  of  her  nephew,  and  therefore  could  not  have  re- 
ceived and  appropriated  the  money  to  her  own  uses. 

As  he  had  learned  from  the  judge  that  Hannah  was  in  Wash- 
ington, he  resolved  to  seek  a  private  interview  with  her,  and 
ascertain  what  had  become  of  the  check,  and  why,  with  the  large 
sum  of  money  it  represented,  she  had  neglected  to  use  it,  and 
permitted  herself  and  her  nephew  to  suSer  all  the  evils  of  the 
most  abject  poverty. 

CHAPTER  LIX. 

FIRST  MEETING  OF  FATHER  AND  SON. 

Oh,  Christ !  that  thus  a  son  should  stand 
Before  a  father's  face. 

— Byron. 

While  Mr.  Brudenell  still  ruminated  over  these  affairs  the 
second  dinner-bell  rang,  and  almost  at  the  same  moment  Judge 
Merlin  rapped  and  entered  the  chamber,  with  old-fashioned 
hospitality,  to  show  his  guest  the  way  to  the  drawing  room. 

"  You  feel  better,  I  hope,  Brudenell  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"Yes,  thank  you,  judge." 

"  Come  then.  We  M'ill  go  down.  We  are  a  little  behind  time 
at  best  this  evening,  upon  account  of  our  young  friend's  long- 
winded  address.  It  was  a  splendid  affair,  though.  Worth  wait- 
ing to  hear,  was  it  not  ? "  proudly  inquired  the  judge  as  they 
descended  the  stairs. 

They  entered  the  drawing  room. 

It  was  a  family  party  that  was  assembled  there,  with  the 
sole  exception  of  the  Viscount  Vincent,  who  indeed  had  become 
a  daily  visitor,  a  recognized  suitor  of  Miss  Merlin,  and  almost 
one  of  their  set. 


FIEST    MEETING    OF    FATHER    AND    SON.  481 

As  soon  as  Mr.  Brudenell  had  paid  his  respects  to  each  mem- 
ber of  the  family,  Lord  Vincent  advanced  frankly  and  cordially 
to  greet  him  as  an  old  acquaintance,  saying : 

"  I  had  just  learned  from  Miss  Merlin  of  your  arriral.  You 
must  have  left  London  very  soon  after  I  did." 

Before  Mr.  Brudenell  could  reply.  Judge  Merlin  came  up 
with  Ishmael  and  said : 

"  Lord  Vincent,  excuse  me.  Mr.  Brudenell,  permit  me — 
Mr.  Worth,  of  the  Washington  bar." 

Herman  Brudenell  turned  and  confronted  Ishmael  Worth. 
And  father  and  son  stood  face  to  face. 

Herman's  face  was  quivering  with  irrepressible  yet  unspeak- 
able emotion ;  Ishmael's  countenance  was  serene  and  smiling. 

No  faintest  instinct  warned  Nora's  son  that  he  stood  in  the 
presence  of  his  father.  He  saw  before  him  a  tall,  thin,  fair- 
complexioned,  gentlemanly  person,  whose  light  hair  was  slightly- 
silvered,  and  whose  dark  brown  eyes,  in  such  strange  con- 
trast to  the  blond  hair,  were  bent  with  interest  upon  him. 

"  I  am  happy  to  make  your  acquaintance,  young  gentleman. 
Permit  me  to  offer  you  my  congratulations  upon  your  very 
decided  success,"  said  Mr.  Brudenell,  giving  his  hand. 

Ishmael  bowed. 

"Brudenell,  will  you  take  my  daughter  in  to  dinner?"  said 
Judge  Merlin,  seeing  that  Lord  Vincent  had  already  given  his 
arm  to  Mrs.  Middleton. 

Herman,  glad  to  be  relieved  from  a  position  that  was  begin- 
ing  to  overcome  his  self-possession,  bowed  to  Miss  Merlin,  who 
smilingly  accepted  his  escort. 

Judge  Merlin  drew  Bee's  arm  within  his  own  and  followed. 
And  Mr.  Middleton,  with  a  comic  smile,  crooked  his  elbow  to 
Ishmael,  who  laughed  instead  of  accepting  it,  and  those  twa 
walking  side  by  side  brought  up  the  rear. 

That  dinner  passed  very  much  as  other  dinners  of  the  same 
class.  Judge  Merlin  was  cordial,  Mr.  Middleton  facetious,  Lord 
Vincent  gracious,  Mr.  Brudenell  silent  and  apparently  ab- 
stracted, and  Ishmael  was  attentive — a  listener  rather  than  a 
speaker.  The  ladies  as  usual  at  dinner-parties,  where  the  con- 
versation turns  upon  politics,  were  rather  in  the  background, 
and  took  an  early  ojiportunity  of  withdrawing  from  the  table, 
leaving  the  gentlemen  to  finish  their'  political  discussion  over 
their  wine. 

The  latter,  however,  did  not  linger  long ;  but  soon  followed  the 


482  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN    THE   DEPTHS. 

ladies  to  the  drawing  room,  where  coffee  was  served.  And  soon 
after  the  party  separated  for  the  evening.  Herman  Brudenell 
withdrew  to  his  chamber  with  one  idea  occupying  him — his  son. 
Since  the  death  of  Nora  had  paralyzed  his  affections,  Her- 
man Brndenell  had  loved  no  creature  on  earth  until  he  met  her 
son  upon  this  evening.  Now  the  frozen  love  of  years  melted 
and  flowed  into  one  strong,  impetuous  stream  towards  him — 
her  son — his  son !     Oh,  that  he  might  dare  to  claim  him ! 

It  was  late  when  Mr.  Brudenell  fell  asleep — so  late  that  he 
overslept  himself  in  the  morning.  And  when  at  last  he  awoke 
he  was  surprised  to  find  that  it  was  ten  o'clock. 

But  Judge  Merlin's  house  was  "  liberty  hall."  His  guests 
breakfasted  when  they  got  up,  and  got  up  when  they  awoke. 
It  was  one  of  his  crochets  never  to  have  anyone  awakened.  He 
Baid  that  when  people  had  had  sleep  enough,  they  would  awaken 
of  themselves,  and  to  awaken  them  before  that  was  an  injurious 
interference  with  nature.  And  his  standing  order  in  regard  to 
himself  was,  that  no  one  should  ever  arouse  him  from  sleep 
unless  the  house  was  on  fire,  or  someone  at  the  point  of  death. 
And  woe  betide  anyone  who  should  disregard  this  order! 

So  Mr.  Brudenell  had  been  allowed  to  sleep  until  he  woke 
up  at  ten  o'clock,  and  when  he  went  downstairs  at  eleven  he 
found  a  warm  breakfast  awaiting  him,  and  the  little  house- 
wife, Bee,  presiding  over  the  coffee. 

As  Bee  poured  out  his  coffee  she  informed  him,  in  answer  to 
his  remarks,  that  all  the  members  of  the  family  had  breakfasted 
and  gone  about  their  several  affairs.  The  judge  and  Ishmael 
had  gone  to  court,  and  Mrs.  Middleton  and  Claudia  on  a  shop- 
ping expedition;  but  they  would  all  be  back  at  the  luncheon 
hour,  which  was  two  o'clock. 

CHAPTER  LX. 

HERMAN  AND  HANNAH. 

She  had  the  passions  of  her  herd, 

She  spake  some  bitter  truths  that  day, 

Indeed  he  cauglit  one  ugly  word, 
Was  scarcely  fit  for  her  to  say  ! 

— Anon. 

When  breakfast  was   over  Mr.  Brudenell  took  his  hat  ana 
walked  down  the  Avenue  to  Seventh  Street,  and  to  the  Farmer' 
in  search  of  Hannah. 


HERMAN    AND    HANNAH.  483 

Tn  answer  to  his  inquiries  lie  was  told  that  she  was  in,  and 
he  was  desired  to  walk  up  to  her  room.  A  servant  preceding 
him,  opened  a  door,  and  said: 

"  Here  is  a  ge'man  to  see  you,  mum." 

And  Mr.  Brudenell  entered. 

Hannah  looked,  dropped  the  needlework  she  held  in  her  hand, 
started  up,  overturning  the  chair,  and  with  a  stare  of  conster- 
nation exclaimed: 

"  The  Lord  deliver  us  I  is  it  you  ?  And  hasn't  the  devil  got 
you  yet,  Herman  Brudenell  ? " 

"  It  is  I,  Hannah,"  he  answered,  dropping  without  invita- 
tion into  the  nearest  seat. 

"  And  what  on  earth  have  you  come  for,  after  all  these 
years  ?  "  she  asked,  continuing  to  stare  at  him. 

"  To  see  you,  Hannah." 

"  And  what  in  the  name  of  common  sense  do  you  want  to 
see  me  for?  I  don't  want  to  see  you;  that  I  tell  you  plainly; 
for  I'd  just  as  lief  see  Old  Nick !  " 

"  Hannah,"  said  Herman  Brudenell,  with  an  unusual  assump- 
tion of  dignity,  "  I  have  come  to  speak  to  you  about Are 

you  quite  alone  ? "  he  suddenly  broke  off  and  inquired,  cau- 
tiously glancing  around  the  :"oom. 

"  What's  that  to  you  ?  What  can  you  have  to  say  to  me  that 
you  could  not  shout  from  the  house-top?  Tes,  I'm  alone,  if 
you  must  know !  " 

"  Then  I  wish  to  speak  to  you  about  my  son." 

"  Your — ^what  ?  "  demanded  Hannah,  with  a  frown  as  black 
as  midnight. 

"  My  son,"  repeated  Herman  Brudenell,  with  emphasis. 

"  Your  son  ?  What  son  ?  I  didn't  know  you  had  a  son ! 
What  should  I  know  about  your  son  ? " 

"  Woman,  stop  this !  I  speak  of  my  son,  Ishmael  Worth — 
whom  I  met  for  the  first  time  in  the  courtroom  yesterday !  And 
I  ask  you  how  it  has  fared  with  him  these  many  years  ? "  de- 
manded Mr.  Brudenell  sternly,  for  he  was  beginning  to  lose 
patience  with  Hannah. 

"  Oh — h !  So  you  met  Ishmael  Worth  in  the  courtroom 
yesterday,  just  when  he  had  proved  himself  to  be  the  most 
talented  man  there,  did  you?  That  accounts  for  it  all.  I 
understand  it  now!  You  could  leave  him  in  his  helpless,  im- 
poverished, orphaned  infancy  to  perish!  You  could  utterly 
neglect  him,  letting  him  suffer  with  cold  and  hunger  and  sick- 


484  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN   THE    DEPTHS. 

ness  for  years  and  years  and  years !  And  now  that,  by  the  bless- 
ing of  Almighty  God,  he  has  worked  himself  up  out  of  that  hor- 
rible pit  into  the  open  air  of  the  world;  and  now  that  from 
being  a  poor,  despised  outcast  babe  he  has  risen  to  be  a  man 
of  note  among  men;  now,  forsooth,  you  want  to  claim  him  as 
your  son!  Herman  Brudenell,  I  always  hated  you,  but  now  I 
scorn  you !  Twenty  odd  years  ago  I  would  have  killed  you,  only 
I  didn't  want  to  kill  your  soul  as  well  as  your  body,  nor  likewise 
to  be  hanged  for  you !  And  now  I  would  shy  this  stick  of  wood 
at  your  head  only  that  I  don't  want  Reuben  Gray  to  have  the 
mortification  of  seeing  his  wife  took  up  for  assault !  But  I 
hate  you,  Herman  Brudenell !  And  I  despise  you !  There !  take 
yourself  out  of  my  sight !  " 

Mr.  Brudenell  stamped  impatiently  and  said : 

"  Hannah,  you  speak  angrily,  and  therefore,  foolishly.  What 
good  could  accrue  to  me,  or  to  him,  by  my  claiming  Ishmael 
as  my  son,  unless  I  could  prove  a  marriage  with  his  mother? 
It  would  only  unearth  the  old,  cruel,  unmerited  scandal  now 
forgotten!  No,  Hannah;  to  you  only,  who  are  the  sole  living 
depository  of  the  secret,  will  I  solace  myself  by  speaking  of 
him  as  my  son !  You  reproach  me  with  having  left  him  to 
perish.  I  did  not  so.  I  left  in  your  hands  a  check  for  several — 
I  forget  how  many — thousand  dollars  to  be  used  for  his 
benefit.  And  I  always  hoped  that  he  was  well  provided  for 
until  yesterday,  when  Judge  Merlin,  little  thinking  the  interest 
I  had  in  the  story,  gave  me  a  sketch  of  Ishmael's  early  suffer- 
ings and  struggles.  And  now  I  ask  you  what  became  of  that 
check?" 

"  That  check  ?  What  check  ?  What  in  the  world  do  you 
mean  ? " 

"  The  check  for  several  thousand  dollars  which  I  gave  you 
on  the  day  of  my  departure,  to  be  used  for  Ishmael's  benefit.'* 

"  Well,  Herman  Brudenell !  I  always  thought,  with  all  your 
faults,  you  were  still  a  man  of  truth;  but  after  this " 

And  Hannah  finished  by  lifting  her  hands  and  eyes  in  horror. 

"  Hannah,  you  do  severely  try  my  temper,  but  in  memory  of 
all  your  kindness  to  my  son " 

"  Oh !  I  wasn't  kind  to  him !  I  was  as  bad  to  him  as  you, 
and  all  the  rest !     I  wished  him  dead,  and  neglected  him ! " 

"You  did!" 

"  Of  course !  Could  anybody  expect  me  to  care  more  for  him 
than  his  own  father  did?     Yes,  I  wished  him  dead,  and  neg* 


HERMAN    AND    HANNAH.  485 

lected  him,  because  I  thought  he  had  no  right  to  be  in  the 
world,  and  would  be  better  out  of  it!  So  did  everyone  else. 
But  he  sucked  his  little,  skinny  thumb,  and  looked  alive  at  us 
with  his  big,  bright  eyes,  and  lived  in  defiance  of  everybody. 
And  only  see  what  he  has  lived  to  be !  But  it  is  the  good  Lord's 
doir.gs  and  not  mine,  and  not  yours,  Herman  Brudenell,  so  don't 
thank  me  any  more  for  kindness  that  I  never  showed  to  Ish- 
mael,  and  don't  tell  any  more  bragging  lies  about  the  checks  for 
thousands  of  dollars  that  you  never  left  him !  " 

Again  Herman  Brudenell  stamped  impatiently,  frowned,  bit 
his  lips,  and  said : 

"You  shall  not  goad  me  to  anger  with  the  two-edged  sword 
of  your  tongue,  Hannah!  You  are  imjust,  because  you  are 
utterly  mistaken  in  your  premises !  I  did  leave  that  check  of 
which  I  speak !  And  I  wish  to  know  what  became  of  it,  that  it 
was  not  used  for  the  support  and  education  of  Ishmael.  Listen, 
now,  and  I  will  bring  the  whole  circumstance  to  your  recol- 
lection." 

And  Herman  Brudenell  related  in  detail  all  the  little  inci' 
dents  connected  with  his  drawing  of  the  check,  ending  with: 
"  Now  don't  you  remember,  Hannah  ?  " 
Hannah  looked  surprised,   and   said : 

"  Yes,  but  was  that  little  bit  of  dirty  white  paper,  tore  out 
of  an  old  book,  worth  all  that  money  ? " 

"  Yes !  after  I  had  drawn  a  check  upon  it !  " 
"  I  didn't  know !  I  didn't  understand !  I  was  sort  o'  dazed  with 
grief,  I  suppose." 

"  But  what  became  of  the  paper,  Hannah  ?  " 
"  Mrs.  Jones  lit  the  candle  with  it !  " 
"Oh!  Hannah!" 

"Was  the  money  all  lost?  entirely  lost  because  that  little 
bit  of  paper  was  burnt  ? " 

"  To  you  and  to  Ishmael  it  was,  of  course,  since  you  never 
received  it;  but  to  me  it  was  not,  since  it  was  never  drawn 
from  the  bank." 

"  Well,  then,  Mr,  Brudenell,  since  the  money  was  not  lost,  I 
do  not  so  much  care  if  the  check  was  burnt !  I  should  not  have 
used  it  for  myself,  or  Ishmael,  anyhow !  Though  I  am  glad  to 
know  that  you  did  not  neglect  him,  and  leave  him  to  perish  in 
destitution,  as  I  supposed  you  had !  I  am  very  glad  you  took 
measures  for  his  benefit,  although  he  never  profited  by  them, 
and  I  never  would  have  let  him  do  so.     Still,  it  is  pleasant  to 


486  ishmael;  oe,  m  the  depths. 

think  that  you  did  your  duty;  and  I  am  sorry  I  was  so  unjust 
to  you,  Mr.  Brudenell." 

"  Say  no  more  of  that,  Hannah.  Let  us  talk  of  my  son.  Ee- 
member  that  it  is  only  to  you  that  I  can  talk  of  him.  Tell  me 
all  about  his  infancy  and  childhood.  Tell  me  little  anecdotes 
of  him.  I  want  to  know  more  about  him  than  the  judge  could 
tell  me.  I  know  old  women  love  to  gossip  at  great  length  of  old 
times,  so  gossip  away,  Hannah — tell  me  everything.  You  shall 
have  a  most  interested  listener." 

" '  Old  women,'  indeed !  Not  so  very  much  older  than  your- 
self, Mr.  Herman  Brudenell — if  it  comes  to  that !  But  anyways, 
if  Keuben  don't  see  as  I  am  old,  you  needn't  hit  me  in  the  teeth 
with  it ! "  snapped  Mrs.  Gray. 

*'  Hannah,  Hannah,  what  a  temper  you  have  got,  to  be  sure ! 
It  is  well  Reuben  is  as  patient  as  Job." 

"  It  is  enough  to  rouse  any  woman's  temper  to  be  called  old 
to  her  very  face  !  " 

"  So  it  is,  Hannah ;  I  admit  it,  and  beg  your  pardon.  But 
nothing  was  farther  from  my  thoughts  than  to  offend  you.  I 
feel  old  myself — very  old,  and  so  I  naturally  think  of  the  com- 
panions of  my  youth  as  old  also.  And  now,  will  you  talk  to 
me  about  my  son  ?  " 

"  Well,  yes,  I  will,"  answered  Hannah,  and  her  tongue  being 
loosened  upon  the  subject,  she  gave  Mr.  Brudenell  all  the  inci- 
dents and  anecdotes  with  which  the  reader  is  already  ac- 
quainted, and  a  great  many  more  with  which  I  could  not  cum- 
ber this  story. 

While  she  was  still  "gossiping,"  and  Herman  all  attention, 
steps  were  heard  without,  and  the  door  opened,  and  Reuben 
Gray  entered,  smiling  and  radiant,  and  leading  two  robust  chil- 
dren— a  boy  and  a  girl — each  with  a  little  basket  of  early  fruit 
in  hand. 

On  seeing  a  stranger  Reuben  Gray  took  off  his  hat,  and  the 
children  stopped  short,  put  their  fingers  in  their  mouths  and 
stared. 

"  Reuben,  have  you  forgotten  our  old  landlord,  Mr.  Herman 
Brudenell  ?  "  inquired  Hannah. 

"  Why,  law,  so  it  is !  I'm  main  glad  to  see  you,  sir !  I  hope 
I  find  you  well ! "  exclaimed  Reuben,  beaming  all  over  with 
welcome,  as  Mr.  Brudenell  arose  and  shook  hands  with  him,  re- 
plying : 

"  Quite  well,  and  very  happy  to  see  you.  Gray." 


HERMAISr    AND    HANNAH.  437 

"  John  and  Mary,  where  are  your  manners  ?  Take  your  fin- 
gers out  of  your  mouths  this  minute, — I'm  quite  ashamed  of 
you ! — and  bow  to  the  gentleman,"  said  Hannah,  admonishing 
her  offspring. 

"  Whose  fine  children  are  these  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Brudenell, 
drawing  the  shy  little  ones  to  him. 

Eeuben's  honest  face  glowed  all  over  with  pride  and  joy  as 
he  answered : 

"  They  are  ours,  sir !  they  are  indeed !  though  you  mightn't 
think  it,  to  look  at  them  and  us !  And  Ishmael — that  is  our 
nephew,  sir — and  though  he  is  now  Mr.  Worth,  and  a  splendid 
lawj^er,  he  won't  turn  agin  his  plain  kin,  nor  hear  to  our  calling 
of  him  anythink  else  but  Ishmael;  and  after  making  his  great 
speech  yesterday,  actilly  walked  right  out'n  the  courtroom,  afore 
all  the  people,  arm  in  arm  long  o'  Hannah! — Ishmael,  as  I  was 
a-saying,  tells  me  as  how  this  boy,  John,  have  got  a  good  headj 
and  would  make  a  fine  scollard,  and  how,  by-and-by,  he  means 
to  take  him  for  a  stoodient,  and  make  a  lawj'er  on  him.  And 
as  for  the  girl,  sir — why,  law !  look  at  her !  you  can  see  for  your- 
self, sir,  as  she  will  have  all  her  mother's  beauty." 

And  Reuben,  with  a  broad,  brown  hand  laid  benignantly 
■upon  each  little  head,  smiled  down  upon  the  children  of  his 
age  with  all  the  glowing  effulgence  of  an  autumnal  noonday 
sun  shining  down  upon  the  late  flowers. 

But — poor  Hannah's  "  beauty  " ! 

Mr.  Brudenell  repressed  the  smile  that  rose  to  his  lips,  for 
he  felt  that  the  innocent  illusions  of  honest  affection  were  far 
too  sacred  to  be  laughed  at. 

And  with  some  well-deserved  compliments  to  the  health  and 
intelligence  of  the  boy  and  girl,  he  kissed  them  both,  shook 
hands  with  Hannah  and  Reuben,  and  went  away. 

He  turned  his  steps  towards  the  City  Hall,  with  the  inten- 
tion of  going  into  the  courtroom  and  comforting  his  soul  by 
watching  the  son  whom  he  durst  not  acknowledge. 

And  as  he  walked  thither,  how  he  envied  humble  Reuben  Gray, 
his  parental  happiness] 


488  ISHMAEL  ;    OK,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 


CHAPTEE  LXL 

ENVY. 

Well!  blot  him  black  with  slander's  ink, 

He  stands  as  wliite  as  snow! 
You  serve  him  better  than  you  think 

And  kinder  than  you  know; 
What?  is  it  not  some  credit  then, 

That  he  provokes  your  blame  ? 
This  merely,  with  all  better  men, 

Is  quite  a  kind  of  fame! 

—M.  F.  Tupper. 

Mr.  Brudenell  found  Ishmael  in  the  anteroom  of  the  court 
in  close  conversation  with  a  client,  an  elderly,  care-worn 
woman  in  widow's  weeds.  He  caught  a  few  words  of  her  dis- 
course, to  which  Ishmael  appeared  to  be  listening  with  sym- 
pathy. 

"Yes,  sir,  Maine;  we  belong  to  Bangor.  He  went  to  Cali- 
fornia some  years  ago  and  made  money.  And  he  was  on  his 
way  home  and  got  as  far  as  this  city,  where  he  was  taken  ill 
with  the  cholera,  at  his  brother's  house,  where  he  died  before 
I  could  get  to  him;  leaving  three  hundred  thousand  dollars,  all 
in  California  gold,  which  his  brother  refuses  to  give  up,  deny- 
ing all  knowledge  of  it.  It  is  robbery  of  the  widow  and  orphan, 
sir,  and  nothing  short  of  that !  " — she  was  saying. 

"  If  this  is  as  you  state  it,  it  would  seem  to  be  a  case  for  a  de- 
tective policeman  and  a  criminal  prosecution,  rather  than  for 
an  attorney  and  a  civil  suit,"  said  Ishmael. 

"  So  it  ought  to  be,  sir,  for  he  deserves  punishment ;  but  I 
have  been  advised  to  sue  him,  and  I  mean  to  do  it,  if  you  will 
take  my  case.  But  if  you  do  take  it,  sir,  it  must  be  on  condi- 
tions." 

"Yes.    What  are  they?" 

"  Why,  if  you  do  not  recover  the  money,  you  will  not  receive 
any  pay;  but  if  you  do  recover  the  money,  you  will  receive  a 
very  large  share  of  it  yourself,  as  a  compensation  for  your 
services  and  your  risk." 

"I  cannot  take  your  case  on  these  terms,  madam;  I  cannot 
accept  a  conditional  fee,"  said  Ishmael  gently. 

"  Then  what  shall  I  do  ? "  exclaimed  the  widow,  bursting  into 
tears.  "  I  have  no  money,  and  shall  not  have  any  until  I  get 
that !    And  how  can  I  get  that  unless  I  sue  for  it  ?    Or  how  sue 


ENVY.  489 

for  it,  unless  you  are  willing  to  take  the  risk?  Do,  sir,  try  it! 
It  will  be  no  risk,  after  all;  you  will  be  sure  to  gain  it!  " 

"  It  is  not  the  risk  that  I  object  to,  madam,"  said  Ishmael  very 
gently,  "  but  it  is  this — to  make  my  fee  out  of  my  case  would 
appear  to  me  a  sort  of  professional  gambling,  from  which  I 
should  shrink." 

"  Then,  Heaven  help  me,  what  shall  I  do  ? "  exclaimed  the 
widow,  weeping  afresh. 

"  Do  not  distress  yourself.  I  will  call  and  see  you  this  after- 
noon. And  if  your  case  is  what  you  represent  it  to  be,  I  will 
undeirtake  to  conduct  it,"  said  Ishmael.  And  in  that  moment 
he  made  up  his  mind  that  if  he  should  find  the  widow's  cause 
a  j\;i3t  one,  he  would  once  more  make  a  free  offering  of  his  ser- 
vices. 

The  new  client  thanked  him,  gave  her  address,  and  departed. 

Ishmael  turned  to  go  into  the  courtroom,  and  found  himself 
confronted  with  Mr.  Brudenell. 

"  Good-morning,  Mr.  Worth !  I  see  you  have  another  client 
already." 

"  A  possible  one,  sir,"  replied  Ishmael,  smiling  with  satisfac- 
tion as  he  shook  hands  with  Mr.  Brudenell. 

"  A  poor  one,  you  mean !  Poor  widows  with  claims  always 
make  a  prey  of  yoang  lawyers,  who  are  supposed  to  be  willing 
to  plead  for  nothing,  rather  thaa  not  plead  at  all !  And  it  is 
all  very  well,  as  it  gives  the  latter  an  opening.  But  you  are  not 
one  of  those  briefless  lawyers;  you  have  already  made  your 
mark  in  the  world,  and  so  you  must  not  permit  these  female  for- 
lornities  that  haunt  the  courts  to  consume  all  your  time  and 
attention." 

"  Sir,"  said  Ishmael  gravely  and  fervently,  "  I  owe  so  much 
to  God — so  much  more  than  I  can  ever  hope  to  pay,  that  at 
least  I  must  show  my  gratitude  to  him  by  working  for  his  poor ! 
Do  you  not  think  that  is  only  right,  sir  ? " 

And  Ishmael  looked  into  the  face  of  this  stranger,  whom  he 
had  seen  but  once  before,  with  a  singular  longing  for  his  ap- 
proval. 

"  Yes !  I  do !  my — I  do,  Mr.  Worth !  "  replied  Brudenell  with 
emotion,  as  they  entered  the  courtroom  together. 

Late  that  afternoon  Ishmael  kept  his  appointment  with  the 
widow  Cobham,  and  their  consultation  ended  in  Ishmael 's  ac- 
ceptance of  her  brief.  Other  clients  also  came  to  him,  and  soon 
his  hamds  were  full  of  business. 


490  ISHMAEL  ;    OK,  I]Sr   THE   DEPTHS. 

As  the  Supreme  Court  had  risen,  and  Judge  Merlin  had  lit- 
tle or  no  official  business  on  hand,  IshmaeFs  position  in  his  office 
was  almost  a  sinecure,  and  therefore  the  young  man  delicately 
hinted  to  his  employer  the  propriety  of  a  separation  between 
them. 

"  No,  Ishmael !  I  cannot  make  up  my  mind  to  part  with  you 
yet.  It  is  true,  as  you  say,  that  there  is  little  to  do  now;  but 
recollect  that  for  months  past  there  has  been  a  great  deal  to 
do,  and  you  have  done  about  four  times  as  much  work  for  me  as 
I  was  entitled  to  expect  of  you.  So  that  now  you  have  earned 
the  right  to  stay  on  with  me  to  the  end  of  the  year,  without 
doing  any  work  at  all." 

"  But,  sir " 

"  But  I  won't  hear  a  word  about  your  leaving  us  just  yet, 
Ishmael.  I  will  hold  you  to  your  engagement,  at  least  until 
the  first  of  June,  when  we  all  return  to  Tanglewood;  then,  if 
you  wish  it,  of  course  I  will  release  you,  as  your  professional 
duties  will  require  your  presence  in  the  city.  But  while  we 
remain  in  town,  I  will  not  consent  to  your  leaving  us,  nor  re- 
lease you  from  your  engagement,"  said  the  judge. 

And  Ishmael  was  made  happy  by  this  decision.  It  had  been 
a  point  of  honor  with  him,  as  there  was  so  little  to  do,  to  offer 
to  leave  the  judge's  employment;  but  now  that  the  offer  had 
been  refused,  and  he  was  held  to  his  engagement,  he  was  very 
much  pleased  to  find  himself  obliged  to  remain  under  the  same 
roof  with  Claudia. 

Ah !  sweet  and  fatal  intoxication  of  her  presence !  he  would 
not  willingly  tear  himself  away  from  it. 

Meanwhile  this  pleasure  was  but  occasional  and  fleeting.  He 
seldom  saw  Claudia  except  at  the  dinner  hour. 

Miss  Merlin  never  now  got  up  to  breakfast  with  the  family. 
Her  life  of  fashionable  dissipation  was  beginning  to  tell  even 
on  her  youthful  and  vigorous  constitution.  Every  evening  she 
was  out  until  a  late  hour,  at  some  public  ball,  private  party, 
concert,  theater,  lecture  room,  or  some  other  place  of  amuse- 
ment. The  consequence  was  that  she  was  always  too  tired  to 
rise  and  breakfast  with  the  family,  whom  she  seldom  joined 
until  the  two  o'clock  lunch.  And  at  that  hour  Ishmael 
was  sure  to  be  at  court,  where  the  case  of  Cobham  versus  Han- 
ley,  in  which  Mr.  Worth  was  counsel  for  the  plaintiff,  was  go- 
ing on.  At  the  six  o'clock  dinner  he  daily  met  her,  as  I  pnid, 
but  that  was  always  in  public.     And  immediately  after  coffee 


ENVY.  491 

she  would  go  out,  attended  by  Mrs.  Middleton  as  chaperone  and 
the  Viscomu  Vincent  as  escort.  And  she  would  return  long 
after  Ishmael  had  retired  to  his  room,  so  that  he  would  not 
see  her  again  until  the  next  day  at  dinner.  And  so  the  days 
wore  on. 

Mr.  Brudenell  remained  the  guest  of  Judge  Merlin.  A 
strange  affection  was  growing  up  between  him  and  Ishmael 
Worth.  Brudenell  understood  the  secret  of  this  affection;  Ish- 
mael did  not.  The  father,  otherwise  childless,  naturally  loved 
the  one  gifted  son  of  his  youth,  and  loved  him  the  more  that 
he  durst  not  acknowledge  him.  And  Islmaael,  in  his  genial 
Bature,  loved  in  return  the  stranger  who  showed  so  much 
affectionate  interest  in  him.  No  one  perceived  the  likeness 
that  was  said  by  the  viscount  to  exist  between  the  two  except 
the  viscount  himself;  and  since  he  had  seen  them  together  he 
had  ceased  to  comment  upon  the  subject. 

Reuben  Gray  and  his  family  had  returned  home,  so  that 
Mr.  Brudenell  got  no  farther  opportunity  of  talking  with 
Hannah. 

The  Washington  season,  prolonged  by  an  extra  session  of 
Congress,  was  at  length  drawing  to  a  close ;  and  it  was  finished 
off  with  a  succession  of  very  brilliant  parties.  Ishmael  Worth 
•was  now  included  in  every  invitation  sent  to  the  family  of  Judge 
Merlin,  and  in  compliance  with  the  urgent  advice  of  the  jiielga 
he  accepted  many  of  these  invitations,  and  appeared  in  some 
of  the  most  exclusive  drawing  rooms  in  Washington,  where  his 
handsome  person,  polished  manners,  and  distinguished  talents 
made  him  welcome. 

But  none  among  these  brilliant  parties  equaled  in  splendor 
the  ball  given  early  in  the  season  by  the  Merlins. 

"  And  since  no  one  has  been  able  to  eclipse  my  ball,  I  will 
eclipse  it  myself  by  a  still  more  splendid  one — a  final  grand 
display  at  the  end  of  the  season,  like  a  final  grand  tableau  at 
the  close  of  the  pantomime,"  said  Claudia. 

"  My  dear,  you  will  ruin  yourself,"  expostulated  Mrs,  Mid- 
dleton. 

"My  aunt,  I  shall  be  a  viscountess,"  replied  Miss  Merlin. 

And  preparations  for  the  great  party  were  immediately  com- 
menced. More  than  two  hundred  invitations  were  sent  out. 
And  the  aid  of  the  t^  iree  great  ministers  of  fashion — Vourienne, 
Devizac,  and  Dureezie — were  called  in,  and  each  was  furnished 
with  a  carte-blanche  as  to  expenses.     And  as  to  squander  the 


492  isHMAEL ;  OR,  iisr  the  depths. 

money  of  the  prodigal  heiress  was  to  illustrate  their  own  arts, 
they  availed  themselves  of  the  privilege  in  the  freest  manner. 

For  a  few  days  the  house  was  closed  to  visitors,  and  given  up 
to  suffer  the  will  of  the  decorator  Vourienne  and  his  attendant 
magicians,  who  soon  contrived  to  transform  the  sober  mansion 
of  the  American  judge  into  something  very  like  the  gorgeous 
palace  of  an  Oriental  prince.  And  as  if  they  would  not  be 
prodigal  enough  if  left  to  themselves,  Claudia  continually  in- 
terfered to  instigate  them  to  new  extravagances. 

Meanwhile  nothing  was  talked  of  in  fashionable  circles  but 
the  approaching  ball,  and  the  novelties  it  was  expected  to  de- 
velop. 

On  the  morning  of  the  day,  Vourienne  and  his  imps  having 
completed  their  fancy  papering,  painting,  and  gilding,  and  put 
the  finishing  touches  by  festooning  all  the  walls  and  ceilings, 
and  wreathing  all  the  gilded  pillars  with  a  profusion  of  artifi- 
cial flowers,  at  last  evacuated  the  premises,  just  it  time  to  allow 
Devizac  and  his  army  to  march  in  for  the  purpose  of  laying 
the  feast.  These  forces  held  possession  of  the  supper  room,  kit- 
chen, and  pantry  for  the  rest  of  the  evening,  and  prepared  a 
supper  which  it  would  be  vain  to  attempt  to  describe,  since 
even  the  eloquent  reporter  of  the  "  Republican  Court  Journal " 
failed  to  do  it  justice.  A  little  later  in  the  evening  Dureezie 
and  his  celebrated  troupe  arrived,  armed  with  all  the  celebrated 
dances — waltzes,  polkas,  etc. — then  known,  and  one  or  two 
others  composed  expressly  for  this  occasion. 

And,  when  they  had  taken  their  places,  Claudia  and  her 
party  came  down,  into  the  front  drawing  room  to  be  ready  to 
receive  the  company. 

On  this  occasion  it  was  Miss  Merlin's  whim  to  dress  with  ex- 
ceeding richness.  She  wore  a  robe  of  dazzling  splendor — a 
fabric  of  the  looms  of  India,  a  sort  of  gauze  of  gold,  that  seemed 
to  be  composed  of  woven  sunbeams,  and  floated  gracefully 
around  her  elegant  figure  and  accorded  "well  with  her  dark 
beauty.  The  bodice  of  this  gorgeous  dress  was  literally  starred 
with  diamonds.  A  coronet  of  diamonds  flashed  above  her  black 
ringlets,  a  necklace  of  diamonds  rested  upon  her  full  bosom, 
and  bracelets  of  the  same  encircled  her  rounded  arms.  Such 
a  glowing,  splendid,  refulgent  figure  as  she  presented  sug- 
gested the  idea  of  a  Mohammedan  sultan;  rather  than  that  of 
a  Christian  maiden.  But  it  was  Miss  Merlin's  caprice  upon  this 
occasion  to  dazzle,  bewilder,  and  astonish. 


Eirvnr.  493 

Bee,  who  stood  near  her  like  a  maid  of  honor  to  a  queen,  was 
dressed  with  her  usual  simplicity  and  taste,  in  a  fine  white 
crepe,  with  a  single  white  lily  on  her  bosom. 

Mrs.  Middleton,  standing  also  with  Claudia,  wore  a  robe  of 
silver  gray. 

And  this  pure  white  on  one  side  and  pale  gray  on  the  other 
did  but  heighten  the  effect  of  Claudia's  magnificent  costume. 

The  fashionable  hour  for  assembling  at  evening  parties  was 
then  ten  o'clock.  By  a  quarter  past  ten  the  company  began  to 
arrive,  and  by  eleven  the  rooms  were  quite  full. 

The  Viscount  Vincent  arrived  early,  and  devoted  himself  to 
Miss  Merlin,  standing  behind  her  chair  like  a  lord  in  waiting. 

Ishmael  was  also  present  with  this  group  ostensibly  in  at- 
tendance upon  Beatrice,  but  really  and  truly  waiting  every 
turn  of  Claudia's  countenance  or  conversation. 

While  they  were  all  standing,  grouped  in  this  way,  to  re- 
ceive all  comers,  Judge  Merlin  approached,  smiling,  and  accom- 
panied by  an  ofiicer  in  the  uniform  of  the  United  States  army, 
whom  he  presented  in  these  words: 

"  Claudia,  my  love,  I  bring  you  an  old  acquaintance — a  very 
old  acquaintance — Captain  Burghe." 

Claudia  bowed  as  haughtily  and  distantly  as  it  was  possible 
to  do;  and  then,  without  speaking,  glanced  inquiringly  at 
her  father  as  if  to  ask — "  How  came  this  person  here  ?  " 

Judge  Merlin  replied  to  that  mute  question  by  saying: 

"  I  was  so  lucky  as  to  meet  our  young  friend  on  the  Avenue 
to-day;  he  is  but  just  arrived.  I  told  him  what  was  going  on 
here  this  evening  and  begged  him  to  waive  ceremony  and  come 
to  us.  And  he  was  so  good  as  to  take  me  at  my  word !  Bee,  my 
dear,  don't  you  remember  your  old  playmate,  Alfred  Burghe  ? " 
said  the  judge,  appealing  for  relief  to  his  amiable  niece. 

ISTow,  Bee  was  too  kind-hearted  to  hurt  anyone's  feelings, 
and  yet  too  truthful  to  make  professions  she  did  not  feel.  She 
could  not  positively  say  that  she  was  glad  to  see  Alfred  Burghe ; 
hut  she  could  give  him  her  hand  and  say: 

"I  hope  you  are  M'ell,  Mr.  Burghe." 

"  Captain!  Captain,  my  dear!  he  commands  a  company  nowt 
Lord  Vincent  permit  me — Captain  Burghe." 

A  haughty  bow  from  the  viscount  and  a  reverential  one  from 
■fehe  captain  acknowledged  this  presentation. 

Then  Mrs.  Middleton  kindly  shook  hands  with  the  unwel- 
come visitor. 


494  ISHMAEL  ;    OK,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

And  finally  Claudia  unbent  a  little  from  her  hauteur  and  con- 
descended to  address  a  few  commonplace  remarks  to  him.  But 
at  length  her  eyes  flashed  upon  Ishmael  standing  behind  Bee. 

"  You  are  acquainted  with  Mr.  Worth,  I  presume,  Captain 
Eurghe  ?  "  she  inquired. 

"  I  have  not  that  honor,"  said  Alfred  Burghe  arrogantly. 

"  Then  I  will  confer  it  upon  you !  "  said  Claudia  very  gravely. 
"  llr.  Worth,  I  hope  you  will  permit  me  to  present  to  you  Cap- 
tain Burghe.     Captain  Burghe,  Mr.  Worth,  of  the  Washington 

br-,.    " 
ill. 

Ishmael  bowed  with  courtesy;  but  Alfred  Burghe  grew  vio- 
lently red  in  the  face,  and  with  a  short  nod  turned  away. 

"  Captain  Burghe  has  a  bad  memoiy,  my  lord !  "  said  Claudia, 
turning  to  the  viscount.  "  The  gentleman  to  whom  I  have  just 
presented  him  once  saved  his  life  at  the  imminent  risk  of  his 
own.  It  is  true  the  affair  happened  long  ago,  when  they  were 
both  boys ;  but  it  seems  to  me  that  if  anyone  had  exposed  him- 
self to  a  death  by  fire  to  rescue  me  from  a  burning  building, 
I  should  remember  it  to  the  latest  day  of  my  life." 

"  Pardon  me.  Miss  Merlin.  The  circumstance  to  which  you 
allude  was  beyond  my  control,  and  Mr. — a — Word's  share  in  it 
without  my  consent;  his  service  was,  I  believe,  well  repaid  by 
my  father;  and  the  trouble  with  me  is  not  that  my  memory  is 
defective,  but  rather  that  it  is  too  retentive.  I  remember  the 
origin  of " 

"  Our  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Worth !  "  interrupted  Claudia, 
turning  deadly  pale  and  speaking  in  the  low  tones  of  sup- 
pressed passion.  "  Yes,  I  know !  there  was  a  stopped  carriage, 
rifled  hampers,  and  detected  thieves.  There  was  a  young  gen- 
tleman who  dishonored  his  rank,  and  a  noble  working  boy  who 
distinguished  himself  in  that  affair.  I  remember  perfectly  well 
the  circumstances  to  which  you  refer." 

"  You  mistake.  Miss  Merlin,"  retorted  Burghe,  with  a  hot 
flush  upon  his  brow,  "  I  do  not  refer  to  that  boyish  frolic,  for 
it  was  no  more !     I  refer  to " 

"  Mr.  Burghe,  excuse  me.  Mr.  Worth,  will  you  do  me  the 
favor  to  tell  the  band  to  strike  up  a  quadrille?  Lord  Vincent, 
I  presume  they  expect  us  to  open  the  ball.  Bee,  my  dear,  you 
are  engaged  to  Mr.  Worth  for  this  set.  Be  sure  when  he  returns 
to  come  to  the  same  set  with  us  and  be  our  vis-a-vis,"  said 
Claudia,  speaking  rapidly. 

Before  she  had  finished  Ishmael  had  gone  upon  her  errand. 


ENVY.  495 

and  the  band  struck  up  a  lively  quadrille.  Claudia  gave  her 
hand  to  Lord  Vincent,  who  led  her  to  the  head  of  the  first  set. 
When  Ishmael  returned,  Bee  gave  him.  her  hand  and  told  him 
Claudia's  wish,  which,  of  course,  had  all  the  force  of  a  com- 
mand for  him,  and  he  immediately  led  Bee  to  the  place  opposite 
Lord  Vincent  and  Miss  Merlin. 

And  Captain  Burghe  was  left  to  bite  his  nails  in  foiled 
malignity. 

But  later  in  the  evening  he  took  his  revenge  and  received  his 
punishment. 

It  happened  in  this  manner:  !New  quadrilles  were  being 
formed.  Claudia  was  again  dancing  with  Lord  Vincent,  and 
they  had  taken  their  places  at  the  head  of  one  of  the  sets. 
Ishmael  was  dancing  with  one  of  the  poor  neglected  "  wall- 
flowers "  to  whom  Bee  had  kindly  introduced  him,  and  he  led 
his  partner  to  a  vacant  place  at  the  foot  of  one  of  the  sets;  he 
was  so  much  engaged  in  trying  to  entertain  the  shy  and  awk- 
ward girl  that  he  did  not  observe  who  was  their  vis-a-vis,  or 
overhear  the  remarks  that  were  made. 

But  Claudia,  who,  with  the  viscount,  was  standing  very 
near,  heard  and  saw  all.  She  saw  Ishmael  lead  his  shy  young 
partner  up  to  a  place  in  the  set,  exactly  opposite  to  where  Al- 
fred Burghe  with  his  partner.  Miss  Tourneysee,  stood.  And 
she  heard  Mr.  Burghe  whisper  to  Miss  Tourneysee : 

"  Excuse  me ;  and  permit  me  to  lead  you  to  a  seat.  The 
person  who  has  just  taken  the  place  opposite  to  us  is  not  a 
proper  associate  even  for  me,  still  less  for  you." 

And  she  saw  Miss  Tourneysee's  look  of  surprise  and  heard 
her  low-toned  exclamation : 

"  Why,  it  is  Mr.  Worth !     I  have  danced  with  him  often ! " 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  it.  I  hope  you  will  take  the  word  of  an 
officer  and  a  gentleman  that  he  is  not  a  respectable  person,  and 
by  no  means  a  proper  acquaintance  for  any  lady." 

"But  why  not?" 

"Pardon  me.  I  cannot  tell  you  why  not.  It  is  not  a  story 
fit  for  your  ears.  But  I  will  tell  your  father.-  For  I  think  the 
real  position  of  the  fellow  ought  to  be  known.  In  the  meantime, 
will  you  take  my  word  for  the  truth  of  what  I  have  said,  and 
permit  me  to  lead  you  to  a  seat?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  young  lady,  trembling  with  distress. 

"  I  regret  exceedingly  to  deprive  you  of  your  dance ;  but  you 
perceive  that  there  is  no  other  vacant  place." 


496  iskmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

"  Ob,  don't  meiition  it !     Find  me  a  seat." 

This  low-toned  conversation,  every  -word  of  whicli  had  been 
overheard  by  Claudia  who,  though  in  another  set,  stood  nearly 
back  to  back  with  the  speaker,  was  entirely  lost  to  Ishmael,  who 
stood  at  the  foot  of  the  same  set  with  him,  but  was  at  a  greateif 
distance,  and  was  besides  quite  absorbed  in  the  task  of  reassur- 
ing his  timid  schoolgirl  companion. 

Just  as  Burghe  turned  to  lead  his  partner  away,  and  Ishmael, 
attracted  by  the  movement,  lifted  his  eyes  to  see  the  cause, 
Claudia  gently  drew  Lord  Vincent  after  her,  and  going  up  to 
the  retiring  couple  said : 

"  Miss  Tourneysee,  I  beg  your  pardon ;  but  will  you  and  your 
partner  do  myself  and  Lord  Vincent  the  favor  to  exchange 
places  with  us?  We  particularly  desire  to  form  a  part  of  this 
set." 

"  Oh,  certainly !  "  said  the  young  lady,  wondering,  but  re- 
joiced to  find  that  she  should  not  be  obliged  to  miss  the  dance. 

They  exchanged  places  accordingly;  but  as  they  still  stood 
very  near  together,  Claudia  heard  him  whisper  to  his  partner : 

"  This  evening  I  think  I  will  speak  to  your  father  and  some 
other  gentlemen  and  enlighten  them  as  to  who  this  fellow 
really  is ! " 

Claudia  heard  all  this;  but  commanded  herself.  Her  face 
was  pale  as  marble;  her  lips  were  bloodless;  but  her  dark  eyes 
had  the  terrible  gleam  of  suppressed  but  determined  hatred! 
In  such  moods  as  hers,  people  have  sometimes  planned  murder. 

However,  she  went  through  all  the  four  dances  very  com- 
posedly. And  when  they  were  over  and  Lord  Vincent  had  led 
Ler  to  a  seat,  she  sent  him  to  fetch  her  a  glass  of  water,  while 
she  kept  her  eye  on  the  movements  of  Captain  Burghe,  until 
she  saw  him  deposit  his  partner  on  a  sofa  and  leave  her  to 
fetch  a  cream,  or  some  such  refreshment. 

And  then  Claudia  arose,  drank  the  ice-water  brought  her  by 
the  viscount,  set  the  empty  glass  on  a  stand  and  requested  Lord 
Vincent  to  give  her  his  arm  down  the  room,  as  she  wished  to 
Bpeak  to  Captain  Burghe. 

The  viscount  glanced  at  her  in  surprise,  saw  that  her  face 
■was  bloodless;  but  ascribed  her  pallor  to  fatigue. 

Leaning  on  Lord  Vincent's  arm,  she  went  down  the  whole 
length  of  the  room  until  she  paused  before  the  sofa  on  which  sat 
Miss  Tourneysee  and  several  other  ladies,  attended  by  General 
Tourneysee,  Captain  Burghe  and  other  gentlemen. 


ENVY.  497 

Burghe  stood  in  front  of  the  sofa,  facing  the  ladies  and  with 
his  back  towards  Claudia,  of  whose  approach  he  was  entirely 
ignorant,  as  he  discoursed  as  follows: 

"  Quite  unfit  to  be  received  in  respectable  society,  I  assure 
you,  General!  Came  of  a  wretchedly  degraded  set,  the  lowest 
of  the  low,  upon  my  honor.     This  fellow " 

Claudia  touched  his  shoulder  with  the  end  of  her  fan. 

Alfred  Burghe  turned  sharply  around  and  confronted  Miss 
Merlin,  and  on  meeting  her  eyes  grew  as  pale  as  she  was  her- 
self. 

"  Captain  Burghe,"  she  said,  modulating  her  voice  to  low 
and  courteous  tones,  "  you  have  had  the  misfortune  to  malign 
one  of  our  most  esteemed  friends,  at  present  a  member  of  our 
household.  I  regret  this  accident  exceedingly,  as  it  puts  mo 
under  the  painful  necessity  of  requesting  you  to  leave  the  house 
with  as  little  delay  as  possible!" 

"  Miss  Merlin — ma'am !  "  began  the  captain,  crimsoning  with 
shame  and  rage. 

"  You  have  heard  my  request,  sir !  I  have  no  more  to  say  but 
to  wish  you  a  very  good  evening,"  said  Claudia,  as  with  a  low 
and  sweeping  courtesy  she  turned  away. 

Passing  near  the  hall  v/here  the  footmen  waited,  she  spoke 
to  one  of  them,  saying : 

"  Powers,  attend  that  gentleman  to  the  front  door." 

All  this  was  done  so  quietly  that  Alfred  Burghe  was  able  to 
slink  from  the  room,  unobserved  by  anyone  except  the  little 
group  around  the  sofa,  whom  he  had  been  entertaining  with  hits 
calumnies.  To  them  he  had  muttered  that  he  would  have  satis- 
faction; that  he  would  call  Miss  Merlin's  father  to  a  severe  ac- 
count for  the  impertinence  of  his  daughter,  etc. 

But  the  consternation  produced  by  these  threats  was  soon 
dissipated.  The  band  struck  up  an  alluring  waltz,  and  Lord 
Vincent  claimed  the  hand  of  Beatrice,  and  Ishmael,  smiling, 
radiant  and  unsuspicious,  came  in  search  of  Miss  Tourneysee, 
who  accepted  his  hand  for  the  dance  without  an  instant's  hesi- 
tation. 

"  Do  you  know " — inquired  Miss  Tourneysee,  with  a  little 
curiosity  to  ascertain  whether  there  was  any  mutual  enmity 
between  Burghe  and  Ishmael — "  do  you  know  who  that  Captain 
Burghe  is  that  danced  the  last  quadrille  with  me  ? " 

"  Yes ;  he  is  the  son  of  the  late  Commodore  Burghe,  who  was 
a  gallant  officer,  a  veteran  of  1812,  and  did  good  service  during 


498  ishmael;  oe,  in  the  depths. 

the  last  War  of  Independence,"  said  Ishmael  generously,  utter- 
ing not  one  word  against  his  implacable  foe. 

Miss  Tourneysee  looked  at  him  wistfully  and  inquired :  "  Is 
the  son  as  good  a  man  as  the  father  ? " 

"  I  have  not  known  Captain  Burghe  since  we  were  at  school 
together." 

"  I  do  not  like  him.  I  do  not  think  he  is  a  gentleman,"  said 
Miss  Tourneysee. 

Ishmael  did  not  reply.  It  was  not  his  way  to  speak  even  de- 
served evil  of  the  absent. 

But  Miss  Tourneysee  drew  a  mental  comparison  between  the 
meanness  of  Alfred's  conduct  and  the  nobility  of  Ishmael's. 
And  the  dance  succeeded  the  conversation. 

Claudia  remained  sitting  on  the  sofa  beside  Mrs.  Middleton, 
until  at  the  close  of  the  dance,  when  she  was  rejoined  by  the 
viscount,  who  did  not  leave  her  again  during  the  evening. 

The  early  summer  nights  were  short,  and  so  it  was  near  the 
dawn  when  the  company  separated. 

The  party  as  a  whole  had  been  the  most  splendid  success  of 
the  season. 


CHAPTER  LXn. 

FOILED  IVIALICE. 

Through  good  report  and  ill  report, 

The  true  man  goes  liis  way, 
Nor  condescends  to  pay  his  court 

To  what  the  vile  may  say  : 
Aye,  be  the  scandal  what  they  will, 

And  whisper  what  they  please, 
They  do  but  fan  his  glory  stiU 

By  whistling  up  a  breeze. 

— M.  F.  Tupper. 

The  family  slept  late  next  day,  and  the  breakfast  was  put 
back  to  the  luncheon  hour,  when  at  length  they  all,  with  one 
exception,  assembled  around  the  table. 

"Where  is  Mr.  Worth?"  inquired  the  judge. 

"He  took  a  cup  of  coffee  and  went  to  the  courthouse  at  the 
usual  hour,  sir,"  returned  Powers,  who  was  setting  the  coffee 
on  the  table. 

"  Humph !  that  hotly  contested  case  of  Cobham  versus  Han- 
ley  still  in  progress,  I  suppose,"  said  the  judge. 


FOILED    IvI ALICE.  499 

At  this  moment  Sam  entered  the  breakfast  room  and  laid  a 
card  on  the  table  before  his  master. 

"Eh?  'Lieutenant  Springald,  U.  S.  A.'  Who  the  mischief 
is  he?"  said  the  judge,  reading  the  name  on  the  card. 

"  The  gentleman,  sir,  says  he  has  called  to  see  you  on  par- 
ticular business,"  replied  Sam. 

"  This  is  a  pretty  time  to  come  on  business !  Show  him  up 
into  my  office,  Sam." 

The  servant  "withdrew  to  obey. 

The  judge  addressed  himself  to  his  breakfast,  and  the  conver- 
sation turned  upon  the  party  of  the  preceding  evening. 

"  I  wonder  what  became  of  Burghe  ?  He  disappeared  very 
early  in  the  evening,"  said  Judge  Merlin. 

"  I  turned  him  out  of  doors,"  answered  Claudia  coolly. 

The  judge  set  down  his  coffee  cup  and  stared  at  his  daughter. 

"  He  deserved  it,  papa !  And  nothing  on  earth  but  my  sex 
prevented  me  from  giving  him  a  thrashing  as  well  as  a  dis- 
charge," said  Claudia. 

"  What  has  he  done  ?  "  inquired  her  father. 

Claudia  told  him  the  whole. 

''  Well,  my  dear,  you  did  right,  though  I  am  sorry  that  there 
should  have  been  any  necessity  for  dismissing  him.  Degener- 
ate son  of  a  noble  father,  will  nothing  reform  him !  "  was  the 
comment  of  the  judge. 

Mr.  Brudenell,  who  was  present,  and  had  heard  Claudia's 
account,  was  reflecting  bitterly  upon  the  consequences  of  his 
own  youthful  fault  of  haste,  visited  so  heavily  in  unjust  re- 
proach upon  the  head  of  his  faultless  son. 

"  Well ! "  said  the  judge,  rising  from  the  table,  "  now  I  will 
go  and  see  what  the  deuce  is  wanted  of  me  by  Lieutenant — ■ 
Spring — Spring — Spring  chicken !  or  whatever  his  name  is !  '^ 

He  went  upstairs  and  found  seated  in  his  office  a  beardless 
youth  in  uniform,  who  arose  and  saluted  him,  saying,  as  he 
handed  a  folded  note: 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  be  the  bearer  of  a  challenge,  sir,  from 
my  friend  and  superior  officer.  Captain  Burghe." 

"A — what  ?  "  demanded  the  judge,  with  a  frown  as  black  as  a 
thunder-cloud  and  a  voice  sharp  as  its  clap,  which  made  the 
little  officer  jump  from  his  feet. 

"  A  challenge,  sir ! "  repeated  the  latter,  as  soon  as  he  had 
composed  himself. 

"  Why  what  the  deuce  do  you  mean  by  bringing  a  challenge 


500  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  EST   THE   DEPTHS. 

to  me — breaking  tlie  law  under  the  very  nose  of  an  officer  of 
the  law?"  said  the  judge,  snatching  the  note  and  tearing  it 
open.  When  he  had  read  it,  he  looked  sternly  at  the  messenger 
and  said: 

"  Why  don't  you  know  it  is  my  solemn  duty  to  have  you  ar- 
rested and  sent  to  prison,  for  bringing  me  this,  eh  ? " 

"  Sir,"  began  the  little  fellow,  drawing  his  figure  up,  "  men  of 
honor  never  resort  to  such  subterfuges  to  evade  the  consequences 
of  their  own  acts." 

"Hold  your  tongue,  child!  You  know  nothing  about  what 
you  are  talking  of.  Men  of  honor  are  not  duelists,  but  peace- 
able, law-abiding  citizens.  Don't  be  frightened,  my  brave  little 
bantam!  I  won't  have  you  arrested  this  time;  but  I  will  answer 
your  heroic  principal  instead.  Let  us  see  again — what  it  is 
he  says  ? " 

And  the  judge  sat  down  at  his  writing  table  and  once  more 
read  over  the  challenge.  , 

It  ran  thus : 

llansion  House,  Friday. 
Judge  Merlin — Sir:  I  have  been  treated  with  the  grossest 
contumely  by  your  daughter,  Miss  Claudia  Merlin.  I  demand 
an  ample  apology  from  the  young  lady,  or  in  default  of  that, 
the  satisfaction  of  a  gentleman  from  yourself.  In  the  event 
of  the  first  alternative  ofi'ered  being  chosen,  my  friend,  Lieu- 
tenant Springald,  the  bearer  of  this,  is  authorized  to  accept 
in  my  behalf  all  proper  apologies  that  may  be  tendered.  Or  in 
the  event  of  the  second  alternative  offered  being  chosen,  I  must 
request  that  you  will  refer  my  friend  to  any  friend  of  yours, 
that  they  may  arrange  together  the  terms  of  our  hostile 
meeting.  I  have  the  honor  to  be,  etc., 

Alfred  Burghe. 

Judge  Merlin   smiled  grimly  as  he  laid  this  precious  com- 
munication aside  and  took  up  his  pen  to  reply  to  it. 
His  answer  ran  as  follows: 

Washington  House,  Friday. 
Captain  Alfred  Burghe :    My  daughter,  Miss  Merlin,  did  per- 
fectly right,  and  I  fully  endorse  her  act.     Therefore,  the  first 
alternative  offered — of  making  you  the  apology  you  demand — is 
totally  inadmissible;  but  I  accept  the  second  one  of  giving  you 


FOILED    MALICE.  501 

tLe  satisfaction  you  require.  The  friend  tb  Tvliom  I  refer  your 
friend  is  Deputy  Marslial  Browning,  who  will  be  prepared  to 
take  you  both  in  custody.  And  the  weapons  with  which  I  will 
meet  you  will  be  the  challenge  that  you  have  sent  me  and  a 
warrant  for  your  arrest.  Hoping  that  this  course  may  give  per- 
fect satisfaction, 

I  have  the  honor  to  be,  etc.,  Kandolph  Merlin. 

Judge  Merlin  carefully  folded  and  directed  this  note,  and  put 
it  into  the  hands  of  the  little  lieutenant,  saying  pleasantly: 

"There,  my  child!  There  you  are!  Take  that  to  your 
principal." 

The  little  fellow  hesitated. 

"I  hope,  sir,  that  this  contains  a  perfectly  satisfactory- 
apology  ? "  he  said,  turning  it  around  in  his  fingers. 

"  Oh,  perfectly !  amply !  We  shall  hear  no  more  of  the  chal- 
lenge." 

"  I  am  very  glad,  sir,"  said  the  little  lieutenant,  rising. 

"  Won't  you  have  something  before  you  go  ? " 

The  lieutenant  hesitated, 

"  Shall  I  ring  for  the  maid  to  bring  you  a  slice  of  bread  and 
butter  and  a  cup  of  milk  ? " 

"  No,  thank  you,  sir !  "  said  Springald,  with  a  look  of  offended 
dignity. 

"  Very  well,  then ;  you  must  give  my  respects  to  your  papa 
and  mamma,  and  ask  them  to  let  you  come  and  play  with  little 
Bobby  and  Tommy  Middleton !  They  are  nice  little  boys !  "  said 
the  judge,  so  very  kindly  that  the  little  lieutenant,  though 
hugely  affronted,  scarcely  loiew  in  what  manner  to  resent  the 
affront. 

"  Good-day,  sir !  "  he  said,  with  a  vast  assumption  of  dignity, 
as  he  strutted  towards  the  door. 

"  Good-day,  my  little  friend.  You  seem  an  innocent  little 
fellow  enough.  Therefore  I  hope  that  you  will  never  again  be 
led  into  the  sinful  folly  of  carrying  a  challenge  to  fight  a  duel, 
especially  to  a  gray-headed  chief  justice." 

And  so  saying,  Judge  Merlin  bowed  his  visitor  out. 

And  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  Judge  Merlin  heard 
no  more  of  "  the  satisfaction  of  a  gentleman." 

The  story,  however,  got  out,  and  Captain  Burghe  and  his 
second  were  so  mercilessly  laughed  at,  that  they  voluntarily 
shortened  their  own  furlough  and  speedily  left  Washington. 


602  ishmael;  ok,  i^  the  depths. 

The  remainder  of  tiiat  week  the  house  was  again  closed  to 
company,  during  the  process  of  dismantling  the  reception 
rooms  of  their  festive  decorations  and  restoring  them  to  their 
ordinarily  sober  aspect. 

By  Saturday  afternoon  this  transformation  was  effected,  and 
the  household  felt  themselves  at  home  again. 

Early  that  evening  Ishmael  joined  the  family  circle  perfectly 
radiant  with  good  news. 

"What  is  it,  Ishmael? "  inquired  the  judge. 

"  Well,  sir,  the  hard-fought  battle  is  over  at  length,  and  we 
have  the  victory.  The  case  of  Cobham  versus  Hanley  is  de- 
cided. The  jury  came  into  court  this  afternoon  with  a  verdict 
for  the  plaintiff." 

"  Good !  "  said  the  judge. 

"  And  the  widow  and  children  get  their  money.  I  am  so 
glad !  "  said  Bee,  who  had  kept  herself  posted  up  in  the  prog- 
ress of  the  great  suit  by  reading  the  reports  in  the  daily  papers. 

"  Yes,  but  how  much  money  will  you  get,  Ishmael  ? "  in- 
quired the  judge. 

"  None,  sir,  on  this  case.  A  conditional  fee  that  I  was  to 
make  out  of  my  case  was  offered  me  by  the  plaintiff  in  the  first 
instance,  but  of  course  I  could  not  speculate  in  justice." 

"  Humph !  well,  it  is  of  no  use  to  argue  with  you,  Ishmael. 
INTow,  there  are  two  great  cases  which  you  have  gained,  and 
■which  ought  to  have  brought  you  at  least  a  thousand  dollars, 
and  which  have  brought  you  nothing." 

"Not  exactly  nothing,  uncle;  they  have  brought  him  fame," 
said  Bee. 

"  Fame  is  all  very  well,  but  money  is  better,"  said  the  judge. 

"  The  money  will  come  also  in  good  time,  uncle ;  never  you 
fear.  Ishmael  has  placed  his  capital  out  at  good  interest,  and 
■with  the  best  security." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Bee?" 

"  *  Whoso  giveth  to  the  poor,  lendeth  to  the  Lord.'  Ishmael's 
services,  given  to  the  poor,  are  lent  to  the  Lord,"  said  Bee 
reverently. 

"  Humph !  humph  1  humph !  "  muttered  the  judge,  who  never 
ventured  to  carry  on  an  argument  when  the  Scripture  was 
quoted  against  him.  "  Well !  I  suppose  it  is  all  right.  And 
now  I  hear  that  you  are  counsel  for  that  poor  devil  Toomey, 
who  fell  through  the  grating  of  Sarsfield's  cellar,  and  crippled 
himself  for  life," 


FOILED   MALICE.  503 

"  Yes,"  said  Ishmael.  "  I  think  he  is  entitled  to  heavy  dam- 
ages. It  was  criminal  carelessness  in  Sarsfield  &  Company  to 
leave  their  cellar  grating  in  that  unsafe  condition  for  weeks, 
to  the  great  peril  of  the  passers-by.  It  was  a  regular  trap  for 
lives  and  limbs.  And  this  poor  laborer,  passing  over  it,  has 
fallen  and  lamed  himself  for  life!  And  he  has  a  large  family 
depending  upon  him  for  support.  I  have  laid  the  damages  at 
five  thousand  dollars." 

"  Yes ;  but  how  much  do  you  get  ? " 

"  Nothing.  As  in  the  other  two  cases,  my  client  is  not  able 
to  pay  me  a  retaining  fee,  and  it  is  against  my  principles  to 
accept  a  contingent  one." 

"  Humph !  that  makes  three  '  free,  gratis,  for  nothing '  labors ! 
I  wonder  how  long  it  will  be  before  the  money  cases  begin  to 
come  on  ? "  inquired  the  judge,  a  little  sarcastically. 

"  Oh,  not  very  long,"  smiled  Ishmael.  "  I  have  already  re- 
ceived several  retaining  fees  from  clients  who  are  able  to  pay, 
but  whose  cases  may  not  come  on  until  the  next  term." 

"  But  when  does  poor  Toomey's  case  come  on  ?  " 

"  Monday." 

At  that  moment  the  door  opened,  and  Powers  announced: 

"Lord  Vincent!" 

The  viscount  entered  the  drawing  room;  and  Ishmael's  pleas- 
ure was  over  for  that  evening. 

On  Monday  Ishmael's  third  case,  Toomey  versus  Sarsfield, 
came  on.  It  lasted  several  days,  and  then  was  decided  in  favor 
of  the  plaintiff — Toomey  receiving  every  dollar  of  the  damages 
claimed  for  him  by  his  attorney.  In  his  gratitude  the  poor  man 
would  have  pressed  a  large  sum  of  money,  even  to  one-fifth  of 
his  gains,  upon  his  young  counsel ;  but  Ishmael,  true  to  his  prin- 
ciple of  never  gambling  in  justice,  refused  to  take  a  dollar. 

That  week  the  court  adjourned;  and  the  young  barrister  had 
leisure  to  study  and  get  up  his  cases  for  the  next  term.  The 
extra  session  of  Congress  was  also  over.  The  Washington  sea- 
son was  in  fact  at  an  end.  And  everybody  was  preparing  to 
leave  town. 

Judge  Merlin  issued  a  proclamation  that  his  servants  should, 
pack  up  all  his  effects,  preparatory  to  a  migration  to  Tangle- 
wood;  for  that  chains  should  not  bind  him  to  Washington  any 
longer,  nor  wild  horses  draw  him  to  Saratoga,  or  any  other  place 
of  public  resort;  because  his  very  soul  was  sick  of  crowds  and 
longed  for  the  wilderness. 


504  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

But  the  son  of  Powhatan  was  destined  to  find  that  circum- 
stances are  often  stronger  than  those  forces  that  he  defied. 

And  so  his  departure  from  Washington  was  delayed  for  weeks 
by  this  event. 

One  morning  the  Viscount  Vincent  called  as  usual,  and,  after 
a  prolonged  private  interview  with  Miss  Merlin,  he  sent  a  mes- 
sage to  Judge  Merlin  requesting  to  see  him  alone  for  a  few 
minutes. 

Ishmael  was  seated  with  Judge  Merlin  in  the  study  at  the 
moment  Powers  brought  this  message. 

"  Ah !  '  Lord  Vincent  requests  the  honor  of  a  private  inter- 
view '  with  me,  does  he  ?  Well,  it  is  what  I  have  been  expecting 
for  some  days !  Wonder  if  he  doesn't  think  he  is  conferring  an 
honor  instead  of  receiving  one?  Ask  him  to  be  so  good  as  to 
walk  up,  Powers.  Ishmael,  my  dear  boy,  excuse  me  for  dis- 
missing you  for  a  few  minutes;  but  pray  return  to  me  as  soon 
as  this  Lord — '  Foppington  ' — leaves  me.  May  Satan  fly  away 
■with  him,  for  I  know  he  is  coming  to  ask  me  for  my  girl ! " 

It  was  well  that  Ishmael  happened  to  be  sitting  wath  his  back 
to  the  window.  It  was  well  also  that  Judge  Merlin  did  not  look 
up  as  his  young  partner  passed  out,  else  would  the  judge  have 
seen  the  haggard  countenance  which  would  have  told  him  more 
eloquently  than  words  could  of  the  force  of  the  blow  that  had 
fallen  on  Ishmael's  heart. 

He  went  up  into  his  own  little  room,  and  sat  dovpn  at  his 
desk,  and  leaning  his  brow  upon  his  hand  struggled  with  the 
anguish  that  wrung  his  heart. 

It  had  fallen,  then!  It  had  fallen — the  crushing  blow! 
Claudia  was  betrothed  to  the  viscount.  He  might  have  been, 
as  everyone  else  was,  prepared  for  this.  But  he  was  not.  For 
he  knew  that  Claudia  was  perfectly  conscious  of  his  own  pas- 
sionate love  for  her,  and  he  knew  that  she  loved  him  with  al- 
most equal  fervor.  It  is  true  his  heart  had  been  often  wrung 
with  jealousy  when  seeing  her  with  Lord  Vincent;  yet  even 
then  he  had  thought  that  her  vanity  only  was  interested  in 
receiving  the  attentions  of  the  viscount;  and  he  had  trusted 
in  her  honor  that  he  believed  would  never  permit  her,  while 
loving  himself,  to  marry  another,  or  even  give  that  other 
serious  encouragement.  It  is  true  also  that  he  had  never 
breathed  his  love  to  Claudia,  for  he  knew  that  to  do  so  would 
be  an  unpardonable  abuse  of  his  position  in  Judge  Merlin's 
family,  a  flagrant  breach  of  confidence,  and  a  fatal  piece  of 


FOILED    MALICE.  505 

presumption  that  would  insure  his  final  banishment  from 
Claudia's  society.  So  he  had  struggled  to  control  his  passion, 
seeing  also  that  Claudia  strove  to  conquer  hers.  And  though 
no  words  passed  between  them,  each  knew  by  secret  sympathy 
the  state  of  the  other's  mind. 

But  lately,  since  his  brilliant  success  at  the  bar  and  the 
glorious  prospect  that  opened  before  him,  he  had  begun  to  hope 
that  Claudia,  conscious  of  their  mutual  love,  would  wait  for 
him  only  a  few  short  years,  at  the  end  of  which  he  would  be  able 
to  offer  her  a  position  not  unworthy  even  of  Judge  Merlin's 
daughter. 

Such  had  been  his  splendid  "  castle  in  the  air."  But  now 
the  thunderbolt  had  fallen  and  his  castle  was  in  ruins. 

Claudia,  whom  he  had  believed  to  be,  if  not  perfectly  fault- 
less, yet  the  purest,  noblest,  and  proudest  among  women; 
Claudia,  his  queen,  had  been  capable  of  selling  herself  to  be 
the  wife  of  an  unloved  man,  for  the  price  of  a  title  and  a 
coronet — a  breath  and  a  bauble ! 

Claudia  had  struck  a  fatal  blow,  not  only  to  his  love  for  her, 
but  to  his  honor  of  her;  and  both  love  and  honor  were  in  their 
death-throes ! 

Anguish  is  no  computer  of  time.  He  might  have  sat  there 
half  an  hour  or  half  a  day,  he  could  not  have  told  which,  when 
he  heard  the  voice  of  his  kind  friend  calling  him. 

"Ishmael,  Ishmael,  my  lad,  where  are  you,  boy?  Come  to 
me!" 

"  Yes,  yes,  sir,  I  am  coming,"  he  answered  mechanically. 

And  like  one  who  has  fainted  from  torture,  and  recovered  in 
bewilderment,  he  arose  and  walked  down  to  the  study. 

Some  blind  instinct  led  him  straight  to  the  chair  that  was 
sitting  with  its  back  to  the  window;  into  this  he  sank,  with 
his  face  in  the  deep  shadow. 

Judge  Merlin  was  walking  up  and  down  the  floor,  with  signs 
of  disturbance  in  his  looks  and  manners. 

A  waiter  with  decanters  of  brandy  and  wine,  and  some 
glasses,  stood  upon  the  table.     This  was  a  very  unusual  thing. 

"Well,  Ishmael,  it  is  done!  my  girl  is  to  be  a  viscountess; 
but  I  do  not  like  it ;  no,  I  do  not  like  it !  " 

Ishmael  was  incapable  of  reply;  but  the  judge  continued: 

"It  is  not  only  that  I  shall  lose  her;  utterly  lose  her,  for 
her  home  will  be  in  another  hemisphere,  and  the  ocean  will 
roU  between  me  and  my  sole  child, — it  is  not  altogether  that,— 


506      ishmael;  oe,  in  the  depths. 

but,  Ishmael,  I  don't  like  the  fellow ;  and  I  never  did,  and  never 
can!" 

Here  the  judge  paused,  poured  out  a  glass  if  wine,  drank  it, 
and  resumed: 

"  And  I  do  not  know  why  I  don't  like  him !  that  is  the  worst 
of  it !  His  rank  is,  of  course,  unexceptionable,  and  indeed  much 
higher  than  a  plain  republican  like  myself  has  a  right  to  ex- 
pect in  a  son-in-law!  And  his  character  appears  to  be  un- 
questionable! He  is  good-looking,  well-behaved,  intelligent 
and  well  educated  young  fellow  enough,  and  so  I  do  not  know 
why  it  is  that  I  don't  like  him !  But  I  don't  like  him,  and  that 
is  all  about  it !  " 

The  judge  sighed,  ran  his  hands  through  his  gray  hair,  and 
continued : 

"  If  I  had  any  reason  for  this  dislike ;  if  I  could  find  any  just 
cause  of  offense  in  him;  if  I  could  put  my  hand  down  on  any 
fault  of  his  character,  I  could  then  say  to  my  daughter :  '  I 
object  to  this  man  for  your  husband  upon  this  account,'  and 
then  I  know  she  would  not  marry  him  in  direct  opposition  to 
my  wishes.  But,  you  see,  I  cannot  do  anything  like  this,  and 
my  objection  to  the  marriage,  if  I  should  express  it,  would  ap- 
pear to  be  caprice,  prejudice,  injustice " 

He  sighed  again,  walked  several  times  up  and  down  the 
floor  in  silence,  and  then  once  more  resumed  his  monologue : 

"People  will  soon  be  congratulating  me  on  my  daughter's 
very  splendid  marriage.  Congratulating  me !  Good  Heaven, 
what  a  mockery !  Congratulating  me  on  the  loss  of  my  only 
child,  to  a  foreigner,  whom  I  half  dislike  and  more  than  half 
suspect — though  without  being  able  to  justify  either  feeling. 
What  do  you  think,  Ishm-ael?  Is  that  a  subject  for  congratula- 
tion? But,  good  Heaven,  boy!  what  is  the  matter  with  you? 
Are  you  ill  ? "  he  suddenly  exclaimed,  pausing  before  the  young 
man  and  noticing  for  the  first  time  the  awful  pallor  of  his  face 
and  the  deadly  collapse  of  his  form. 

"  Are  you  ill,  my  dear  boy  ?     Speak !  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  am  ill !  "  groaned  Ishmael. 

"  Where  ?  where  ?  " 

"  Ever3^where !  " 

The  judge  rushed  to  the  table  and  poured  out  a  glass  of  brandy 
and  brought  it  to  him. 

But  the  young  man,  who  was  habitually  and  totally  ab- 
stinent, shook  his  head. 


FOILED    MALICE.  507 

"Drink  it!  drink  it!"  said  the  judge,  offering  the  glass. 

But  Ishmael  silently  waved  it  off. 

"  As  a  medicine,  you  foolish  fellow — as  a  medicine !  You  are 
sinking,  don't  you  know !  "  ijersisted  the  judge,  forcing  the  glass 
into  Ishmael's  hand. 

Ishmael  then  placed  it  to  his  lips  and  swallowed  its  contents. 

The  effect  of  this  draught  upon  him,  unaccustomed  as  he 
was  to  alcoholic  stimulants,  was  instantaneous.  The  brandy 
diffused  itself  through  his  chilled,  sinking,  and  dying  frame, 
warming,  elevating,  and  restoring  its  powers. 

"  This  is  the  fabled  '  elixir  of  life.'  I  did  not  believe  there 
was  such  a  restorative  in  the  world !  "  said  Ishmael,  sitting  up 
and  breathing  freely  under  the  transient  exhilaration. 

"  To  be  sure  it  is,  my  boy !  "  said  the  judge  heartily,  as  he 
took  the  empty  glass  from  Ishmael's  hand  and  replaced  it  on 
the  waiter.  "  But  what  have  you  been  doing  to  reduce  yourself 
to  this  state?  Sitting  up  all  night  over  some  perplexing  case, 
as  likely  as  not." 

"  No." 

"  But  I  am  sure  you  overwork  yourself.  You  should  not  do 
it,  Ishmael!  It  is  absurd  to  kill  yourself  for  a  living,  you 
know." 

"  I  think,  Judge  Merlin,  that,  as  you  are  so  soon  about  to 
leave  Washington,  and  as  there  is  so  little  to  do  in  your  office, 
I  should  be  grateful  if  you  would  at  once  release  me  from  our 
engagement  and  permit  me  to  leave  your  employment,"  said 
Ishmael,  who  felt  that  it  would  be  to  him  the  most  dreadful 
trial  to  remain  in  the  house  and  meet  Claudia  and  Vincent  as 
betrothed  lovers  every  day,  and  at  last  witness  their  marriage. 

The  judge  looked  annoyed  and  then  asked: 

"  ]S[ow,  Ishmael,  why  do  you  wish  to  leave  me  before  the  ex- 
piration of  the  tei-m  for  which  you  were  engaged  ? " 

And  before  Ishmael  could  answer  that  question,  he  continued : 

"  You  are  in  error  as  to  the  reasons  you  assign.  In  the  first 
place,  I  am  not  to  leave  Washington  so  soon  as  I  expected ;  as 
it  is  arranged  that  we  shall  remain  here  for  the  solemnization 
of  the  marriage,  which  will  not  take  place  until  the  first  of 
July.  And  in  the  second  place,  instead  of  there  being  but 
little  to  do  in  the  office,  there  will  be  a  great  deal  to  do — all 
Claudia's  estate  to  be  arranged,  the  viscount's  affairs  to  be 
examined,  marriage  settlements  to  be  executed, — I  wish  it  was 
the  bridegroom  that  was  to  be  executed  instead, — ^letters  to  be 


508  ISHMAEL ;    OE,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

written,  and  -what  not.  So  that  you  see  I  shall  need  your  ser- 
vices very  much.  And  besides,  Ishmael,  my  boy,  I  do  not  wish 
to  part  with  you  just  now,  in  this  great  trial  of  my  life;  for 
it  is  a  great  trial  to  me,  Ishmael,  to  part  with  my  only  child,  to 
a  foreigner  whom  I  dislike  and  who  will  take  her  across  the 
sea  to  another  world.  I  have  loved  you  as  a  son,  Ishmael.  And 
now  I  ask  you  to  stand  by  me  in  this  crisis — for  I  do  not  know 
how  I  shall  bear  it.  It  will  be  to  me  like  giving  her  up  to 
death." 

Ishmael  arose  and  placed  his  hand  in  that  of  his  old  friend. 
His  stately  young  form  was  shaken  by  agitation,  as  an  oak  tree 
is  by  a  storm,  as  he  said: 

"  I  will  remain  with  you,  Judge  Merlin.  I  will  remain  with 
you  through  this  trial.  But  oh,  you  do  not  know — ^you  cannot 
know  how  terrible  the  ordeal  will  be  to  me !  " 

A  sudden  light  of  revelation  burst  upon  Judge  Merlin's 
mind!  He  looked  into  that  agonized  young  face,  clasped  that 
true  hand  and  said : 

"  Is  it  so,  my  boy  ?    Oh,  my  poor  boy,  is  it  indeed  so  ?  " 

"Make  some  excuse  for  me  to  the  family  below;  say  that  I 
am  not  well,  for  that  indeed  is  true;  I  cannot  come  into  the 
drawing  room  this  evening !  "  said  Ishmael. 

And  he  hastily  wrung  his  friend's  hand  and  hurried  from  the 
room,  for  after  that  one  touch  of  sympathy  from  Claudia's 
father  he  felt  that  if  he  had  stayed  another  moment  he  should 
have  shamed  his  manhood  and  wept. 

He  hurried  up  into  his  little  room  to  strive,  in  solitude  and 
prayer,  with  his  great  sorrow. 

Meanwhile  the  judge  took  up  his  hat  for  a  walk  in  the  open 
air.  He  had  not  seen  his  daughter  since  he  had  given  his  con- 
sent to  her  betrothal.  And  he  felt  that  as  yet  he  would  not  see 
her.  He  wished  to  subdue  his  own  feelings  of  pain  and  regret 
before  meeting  her  with  the  congratulations  which  he  wished 
to  offer. 

"  After  all,"  he  said  to  himself,  as  he  descended  the  stairs, 
*'  after  all,  I  suppose,  I  should  dislike  any  man  in  the  world 
who  should  come  to  marry  Claudia,  so  it  is  not  the  viscount  who 
is  in  fault;  but  I  who  am  unreasonable.  But  Ishmael!  Ah, 
poor  boy!  poor  boy!  Heaven  forgive  Claudia  if  she  has  had 
anything  to  do  with  this !  And  may  Heaven  comfort  him,  for 
he  deserves  to  be  happy ! " 


THE   BKIDE-ELEOT.  509 

CHAPTER  LXin. 

THE  BRIDE-ELECT. 

She  stands  up  her  full  height, 

With  her  rich  dress  flowing  round  her. 

And  lier  eyes  as  fixed  and  bright 

As  tlie  diamond  stars  that  crown  her,— 

An  awful,  beaiitiful  sight. 

Beautiful  ?    Yes,  with  her  hair 

So  wild  and  her  cheeks  so  flushedl 
Awful  ?    Yes,  for  there 

In  her  beauty  she  stands  hushed 
By  the  pomp  of  her  own  despair. 

— Meredith. 

Judge  Merlin  walked  about,  reasoning  with  himself  all  day; 
but  he  could  not  walk  off  his  depression  of  spirits,  or  reason 
away  his  misgivings. 

He  returned  home  in  time  to  dress  for  dinner.  He  crept 
up  to  his  chamber  with  a  wearied  and  stealthy  air,  for  he  was 
still  dispirited  and  desirous  of  avoiding  a  meeting  with  his 
daughter. 

He  made  his  toilet  and  then  sat  down,  resolved  not  to  leave 
his  chamber  until  the  dinner-bell  rang,  so  that  he  should  run 
no  risk  of  seeing  her  until  he  met  her  at  dinner,  where  of  course 
no  allusion  would  be  made  to  the  event  of  the  morning. 

He  took  up  the  evening  paper,  that  lay  upon  the  dressing- 
table  by  some  chance,  and  tried  to  read.  But  the  words  con- 
veyed no  meaning  to  his  mind. 

"  She  is  all  I  have  in  this  world ! "  he  sighed  as  he  laid  the 
paper  down. 

"  Papa ! " 

He  looked  up. 

There  she  stood  within  his  chamber  door !  It  was  an  unprec- 
edented intrusion.  There  she  stood  in  her  rich  evening  dress 
of  purple  moire-antique,  with  the  bandeau  of  diamonds  en- 
circling her  night-black  hair.  Two  crimson  spots  like  the  flush 
of  hectic  fever  burned  in  her  cheeks,  and  her  eyes  were  un- 
naturally bright  and  wild,   almost  like  those  of  insanity. 

"  Papa,  may  I  come  to  you  ?  Oh,  papa,  I  have  been  waiting 
to  speak  to  you  all  day;  and  it  seems  to  me  as  if  you  had  pur- 
posely kept  out  of  my  way.  Are  you  displeased,  papa?  May 
I  come  to  you  now?" 


510  ishmael;  or,  iit  the  depths. 

He  opened  his  arms,  and  she  came  and  threw  herself  upon  his 
bosom,  sobbing  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  my  darling  ?  " 

"  Are  you  displeased,  papa  ?  " 

"No,  no,  my  darling!  Why  should  I  be?  How  could  I  be 
so  unreasonable  ?    But — do  you  love  him,  Claudia  ?  " 

"  He  will  be  an  earl,  papa." 

"  Are  you  happy,  Claudia  ? " 

"  I  shall  be  a  countess,  papa !  " 

"  But — are  you  happy,  my  dear,  I  ask  you." 

*'  Happy  ?    Who  is  ?    Who  ever  was  ?  " 

"Your  mother  and  myself  were  happy,  very  happy  during 
the  ten  blessed  years  of  our  union.  But  then  we  loved  each 
other,  Claudia.  Do  you  love  this  man  whom  you  are  about 
to  make  your  husband  ?  " 

"Papa,  I  have  consented  to  be  his  wife.  Should  not  that 
satisfy  you? " 

"  Certainly,  certainly,  my  child !  Besides,  it  is  not  for  my 
rough,  masculine  hand  to  probe  your  heart.  Your  mother  might 
do  it  if  she  were  living,  but  not  myself." 

"  Papa,  bless  me !  it  was  for  that  I  came  to  you.  Oh,  give 
me  your  blessing  before  I  go  downstairs  to — him,  whom  I  must 
henceforth  meet  as  my  promised  husband." 

"  May  the  Lord  bless  and  save  you,  my  poor,  motherless 
girl !  "  he  said,  laying  his  hand  on  her  bowed  head. 

And  she  arose,  and  without  another  word  went  below 
stairs. 

When  she  entered  the  drawing  room  she  found  the  viscount 
there  alone.  He  hastened  to  meet  her  with  gallant  alacrity 
and  pressed  his  lips  to  hers,  but  at  their  touch  the  color  fled  from 
her  face  and  did  not  return.  With  attentive  courtesy  Lord 
Vincent  handed  her  to  a  seat  and  remained  standing  near, 
seeking  to  interest  and  amuse  her  with  his  conversation.  But 
just  as  the  tete-a-tete  was  growing  unsupportable  to  Claudia, 
the  door  opened  and  Beatrice  entered.  Too  many  times  had 
Bee  come  in  upon  just  such  a  tete-a-tete  to  suspect  that  there 
was  anything  more  in  this  one  than  there  had  been  in  any  other 
for  the  last  six  months.  So,  unconscious  of  the  recent  betrothal 
of  this  pair,  she,  smiling,  accepted  the  chair  the  viscount  placed 
for  her,  and  readily  followed  Claudia's  lead,  by  allowing  her- 
self to  be  drawn  into  conversation.  Several  times  she  looked 
up   at  Claudia's  face,  noticing  its  marble  whiteness;  but  at 


THE   BRIDE-ELECT.  511 

length  concluded  that  it  must  be  only  the  effect  of  late  hours, 
and  so  dropped  the  subject  from  her  mind. 

Presently  the  other  members  of  the  family  dropped  in  and 
the  dinner  was  served. 

One  vacant  chair  at  the  table  attracted  general  attention. 
But,  ah !  to  one  there  that  seat  was  not  vacant ;  it  was  filled  with 
the  specter  of  her  murdered  truth. 

"  Where  is  Mr.  Worth  ? "  inquired  Mrs.  Middleton,  from  the 
head  of  the  table. 

"  Oh !  worked  himself  into  a  nervous  headache  over  Allenby's 
complicated  brief!  I  told  him  how  it  would  be  if  he  applied 
himself  so  unintermittingly  to  business;  but  he  would  take  no 
warning.  Well,  these  young  enthusiasts  must  learn  by  pain- 
ful experience  to  modify  their  zeal,"  said  the  judge,  in  explana- 
tion. 

Everyone  expressed  regret  except  Claudia,  who  understood 
and  felt  how  much  worse  than  any  headache  was  the  heart- 
sickness  that  had  for  the  time  mastered  even  Ishmael's  great 
strength;  but  she  durst  utter  no  word  of  sympathy.  And  the 
dinner  proceeded  to  its  conclusion.  And  directly  after  the 
coffee  was  served  the  viscount  departed. 

Meanwhile  Ishmael  lay  extended  upon  his  bed,  clasping 
his  temples  and  waging  a  silent  war  with  his  emotions. 

A  rap  disturbed  him. 

"  Come  in." 

Powers  entered  with  a  tea-tray  in  his  hands,  upon  which  wa3 
neatly  arranged  a  little  silver  tea-service,  with  a  transparent 
white  cup,  saucer,  and  plate.  The  wax  candle  in  its  little  silver 
candlestick  that  sat  upon  the  tray  was  the  only  light,  and 
scarcely  served  to  show  the  room. 

Ishmael  raised  himself  up  just  as  Powers  sat  the  tray  upon 
the  stand  beside  the  bed. 

"  Who  has  had  leisure  to  think  of  me  this  evening  ?  "  thought 
Ishmael,  as  he  contemplated  this  unexpected  attention.  Then, 
speaking  aloud,  he  inquired: 

"  Who  sent  me  these,  Powers  ? " 

"Miss  Middleton,  sir;  and  she  bade  me  to  say  to  you  that 
you  must  try  to  eat ;  and  that  it  is  a  great  mistake  to  fast  when 
one  has  a  nervous  headache,  brought  on  by  fatigue  and  excite- 
ment ;  and  that  the  next  best  thing  to  rest  is  food,  and  both  to- 
gether are  a  cure,"  replied  the  man,  carefully  arranging  the 
service  on  the  stand. 


512  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  m   THE    DEPTHS. 

"  I  might  have  known  it,"  thought  Ishmael,  with  an  undefined 
feeling  of  self-reproach.  "  I  might  have  known  that  she  would 
not  forget  me,  even  though  I  forgot  myself.  What  would  my 
life  be  at  home  without  this  dear  little  sister?  Sweet  sister! 
dear  sister !  Yes,  I  will  follow  her  advice ;  I  will  eat  and  drink 
for  her  sake,  because  I  know  she  will  question  Powers  and  be 
disappointed  if  she  finds  that  I  have  not  done  justice  to  this 
repast." 

"  Will  you  have  more  light,  sir  ?  "  asked  the  footman. 

"  'No,  no,  thank  you,"  replied  Ishmael,  rising  and  seating 
himself  in  a  chair  beside  the  stand. 

The  tea  was  strong  and  fragrant,  the  cream  rich,  the  sugar 
crystalline,  and  a  single  cup  of  the  beverage  refreshed  him. 
The  toast  was  crisp  and  yellow,  the  butter  fresh,  and  the  shav- 
ings of  chipped  beef  crimson  and  tender.  And  so,  despite  his 
heartache  and  headache,  Ishmael  found  his  healthy  and  youth- 
ful appetite  stimulated  by  all  this.  And  the  meal  that  was 
begun  for  Bee's  sake  was  finished  for  his  own. 

"  Your  head  is  better  now,  I  hope,  sir  ? "  respectfully  in- 
quired Powers,  as  he  prepared  to  remove  the  service. 

"  Much,  thank  you.  Tell  Miss  Middleton  so,  with  my  re- 
spects, and  say  how  grateful  I  feel  to  her  for  this  kind  atten- 
tion." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  And,  Powers,  you  may  bring  me  lights  now." 

And  a  few  minutes  later,  when  Powers  had  returned  with 
two  lighted  candles  and  placed  them  on  the  table,  Ishmael,  who 
knew  that  not  an  overtasked  brain,  but  an  undisciplined  heart, 
was  the  secret  of  his  malady,  set  himself  to  work  as  to  a  severe 
discipline,  and  worked  away  for  three  or  four  hours  with  great 
advantage;  for,  when  at  twelve  o'clock  he  retired  to  bed,  he  feU 
asleep  and  slept  soundly  until  morning. 

That  is  what  work  did  for  Ishmael.  And  work  will  do  as 
much  for  anyone  who  will  try  it. 

It  is  true  in  the  morning  he  awoke  to  a  new  sense  of  woe; 
but  the  day  had  also  its  work  to  discipline  him.  He  breakfasted 
•with  Bee  and  her  father  and  the  judge,  who  were  the  only  mem- 
bers of  the  family  present  at  the  table;  and  then  he  went  to 
the  City  Hall,  where  he  had  an  appointment  with  the  District 
Attorney. 

That  morning  the  engagement  between  Lord  Vincent  and 
Claudia  was  formally  announced  to  the  family  circle.    And  Bee 


THE   BErDE-ELECT.  513 

understood  the  secret  of  Ishmael's  sudden  illness.  The  mar- 
riage was  appointed  to  take  place  on  the  first  of  the  ensuing 
month,  and  so  the  preparations  for  the  event  were  at  once  com- 
menced. 

Mrs.  Middleton  and  Claudia  went  to  New  York  to  order  the 
wedding  outfit.  They  were  gone  a  week,  and  when  they  re- 
turned Claudia,  though  much  thinner  in  flesh,  seemed  to  have 
recovered  the  bloom  that  had  been  frightened  away  by  the  vis- 
count's first  kiss. 

The  great  responsibility  of  the  home  preparations  fell  upon. 
Bee.  The  house  had  to  be  prepared  for  visitors;  not  only  for 
the  wedding  guests;  but  also  for  friends  and  relatives  of  the 
family,  who  were  coming  from  a  distance  and  would  remain, 
for  several  days.  For  the  last  mentioned,  new  rooms  had  to  be 
made  ready.  And  all  this  was  to  be  done  under  the  immediate 
supervision  of  Beatrice. 

As  on  two  former  occasions.  Miss  Merlin  called  in  the  aid 
of  her  three  favorite  ministers — Vourienne,  Devizac,  and  Du- 
reezie. 

On  the  morning  of  the  last  day  of  June  Vourienne  and  his 
assistants  decorated  the  dining  room.  On  the  evening  of  the 
same  day  Devizac  and  his  waiters  laid  the  table  for  the  wedding 
breakfast.  And  then  the  room  was  closed  up  until  the  next  day. 
While  the  family  took  their  meals  in  their  small  breakfast 
room. 

During  the  evening  relatives  from  a  distance  arrived  and 
were  received  by  Bee,  who  conducted  them  to  their  rooms. 

By  this  inroad  of  visitors  Bee  herself,  with  the  little  sister 
who  shared  her  bed,  were  driven  up  into  the  attic  to  the  plain 
spare  room  next  to  Ishmael's  own.  Here,  early  in  the  evening, 
as  he  sat  at  his  work,  he  could  hear  Bee,  who  would  not  neglect 
little  Lu  for  anything  else  in  the  world,  rocking  and  singing 
her  to  sleep.  And  Ishmael,  too,  who  had  just  laid  down  his  pen 
because  the  waning  light  no  longer  enabled  him  to  write,  felt 
his  great  trouble  soothed  by  Bee's  songt 


514  iskjiael;  ok,  o  the  depths. 

CHAPTEE  LXIY. 

CLAUDIA'S  WOE. 

Ay,  lady,  here  alone 

You  may  think  till  yonr  heart  is  broken. 
Of  tlie  love  that  is  dead  and  done, 

Of  the  days  that  with  no  token, 
Tor  evermore  are  gone. 

Weep,  if  you  can,  beseech  you! 

There's  no  one  by  to  curb  you  : 
His  heart  cry  cannot  i-each  you  : 

His  love  will  not  disturb  you  : 
■Weep  ? — what  can  weeping  teach  you  ? 

—Meredith. 

Sitting  within  the  recess  of  the  dormer  window,  soothed  by 
the  gathering  darkness  of  the  quiet,  starlight  night,  and  by 
the  gentle  cadences  of  Bee's  low,  melodious  voice,  as  she  sung 
her  baby  sister  to  sleep,  Ishmael  remained  some  little  time 
longer,  when  suddenly  Bee's  song  ceased,  and  he  heard  her  ex- 
clamation of  surprise: 

"  Claudia,  you  up  here !  and  already  dressed  for  dinner !  How 
well  you  look !  How  rich  that  maize-colored  brocade  is !  And 
how  elegant  that  spray  of  diamonds  in  your  hair !  I  never  saw 
you  wear  it  before !     Is  it  a  new  purchase  ?  " 

"  It  is  the  viscount's  present.  I  wear  it  this  evening  in  his 
honor." 

"How  handsome  you  are.  Lady  Yincent!  You  know  I  do 
not  often  flatter,  but  really,  Claudia,  all  the  artist  in  me  de- 
lights to  contemplate  you.  I  never  saw  you  with  such  brilliant 
eyes,  or  such  a  beautiful  color." 

"Brilliant  eyes!  beautiful  color!  Ha!  ha!  ha!  the  first 
frenzy,  I  think!  The  last— well,  it  ought  to  be  beautiful.  I 
paid  ten  dollars  a  scruple  for  it  at  a  wicked  French  shop  in 
Broadway!  And  I  have  used  the  scruple  unscrupulously!" 
she  cried,  with  a  bitter  laugh  as  of  self-scorn. 

"  Oh,  Claudia— rouged !  "  said  Bee,  in  a  tone  of  surprise  and 
pain. 

"Yes,  rouged  and  powdered!  why  not?  Why  should  the 
face  be  true  when  the  life  is  false!  Oh,  Bee,"  she  suddenly 
broke  forth  in  a  wail  of  anguish ;  "  lay  that  child  down  and 
listen  to  me  I    I  must  teU  someone,  or  my  heart  wiU  break!" 


Claudia's  woe.  515 

There  was  a  movement,  a  low,  muffling,  hushing  sound,  that 
told  the  unwilling  listener  that  Bee  was  putting  her  baby  sister 
in  the  bed.  Ishmael  arose  with  the  intention  of  leaving  his 
room,  and  slipping  out  of  hearing  of  the  conversation  that  was 
not  intended  for  his  ears;  but  utterly  overcome  by  the  crowding 
emotions  of  his  heart,  he  sank  back  in  his  chair. 

He  heard  Bee  return  to  her  place.  lie  heard  Claudia  throw 
herself  down  on  the  floor  by  Bee's  side,  and  say: 

"  Oh,  let  me  lay  my  head  dovsm  upon  your  lap.  Bee !  " 

"  Claudia,  dear  Claudia,  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  "What 
can  I  do  for  you  ?  " 

"  Receive  my  confidence,  that  is  all.  Hear  my  confession.  I 
must  tell  somebody  or  die.  I  wish  I  was  a  Catholic,  and  had  a 
father  confessor  who  would  hear  me  and  comfort  me,  and  ab- 
solve my  sins,  and  keep  my  secrets !  " 

"  Can  any  man  stand  in  that  relation  to  a  woman  except  her 
father,  if  she  is  single,  or  her  husband,  if  she  is  married  ? " 
asked  Bee. 

"  I  don't  know — and  I  don't  care  t  Only  when  I  passed  by  St. 
Patrick's  Church,  with  this  load  of  trouble  on  my  soul,  I  felt  as 
if  it  would  have  done  me  good  to  steal  into  one  of  those  veiled 
recesses  and  tell  the  good  old  father  there ! " 

"  You  could  have  told  your  heavenly  Father  anywhere." 

"  He  knows  it  already ;  but  I  durst  not  pray  to  him !  I  am 
not  so  impious  as  that  either.  I  have  not  presun^d:  to  pray  for 
a  month — not  since  my  betrothal." 

"  You  have  not  presumed  to  pray.    Oh,  Claudia !  " 

"How  should  I  dare  to  pray,  after  I  had  deliberately  sold 
myself  to  the  demon — after  I  had  deliberately  determined  to 
ein  and  take  the  wages  of  sin  ? " 

"  Claudia !     Oh,  Heaven !     You  are  certainly  mad !  " 

"I  know  it;  but  the  knowledge  does  not  help  me  to  the  cure. 
X  have  been  mad  a  month !  "  Then  breaking  forth  into  a  wail 
of  woe,  she  cried :  "  Oh,  Bee !  I  do  not  love  that  man !  I  do 
not  love  him!  and  the  idea  of  marrying  him  appalls  my  very 
soul ! " 

"  Good   Heaven,    Claudia,    then   why "   begun   Bee,   but 

Claudia  fiercely  continued: 

"  I  loathe  him !  I  sicken  at  him !  His  first  kiss !  Oh,  Bee ! 
the  cold,  clammy  touch  of  those  lips  struck  all  the  color  from 
my  face  forever,  I  think !    I  loathe  him !  " 

"  Oh,  Claudia,  Claudia,  why,  in  the  name  of  all  that  is  wise 


51 G  ISHiiAEL;    OK,  IN    THE   DEPTHS. 

and  good,  do  you  do  yourself,  and  him,  too,  such  a  terrible 
wrong  as  to  marry  him  ? "  inquired  the  deeply-shocked  maiden. 

"  Because  I  must !  Because  I  will !  I  have  deliberately  de- 
termined to  be  a  peeress  of  England,  and  I  will  be  one,  what- 
ever the  cost." 

"  But  oh !  have  you  thought  of  the  deadly  sin — the  treachery, 
the  perjury,  the  sacrilege;  oh!  and  the  dreadful  degradation  of 
such  a  loveless  marriage  ? " 

"  Have  I  thought  of  these  things — these  horrors  ?  Yes ;  wit- 
ness this  tortured  heart  and  racked  brain  of  mine ! " 

"  Then  why,  oh,  why,  Claudia,  do  you  persevere  ? " 

"  I  am  in  the  vortex  of  the  -;vhirlpool,  and  cannot  stop  my- 
self!" 

"  Then  let  me  stop  you.  My  weak  hand  is  strong  enough  f of 
that.  Remain  here,  dear  Claudia.  Let  me  go  downstairs  and 
report  that  you  are  ill,  as  indeed  and  in  truth  you  are.  The  mar- 
riage can  be  delayed,  and  then  you  can  have  an  explanatiosi 
with  the  viscount,  and  break  it  off  altogether." 

"  And  break  my  plighted  faith  I  Is  that  your  advice,  younj? 
moralist  ? " 

"  There  was  no  faith  in  your  plighted  word,  Claudia.  It  waa 
very  wrong  to  promise  to  marry  a  man  you  could  not  love;  but 
it  would  be  criminal  to  keep  such  a  promise.  Speak  candidly 
to  his  lordship,  Claudia,  and  ask  him  to  release  you  from  youy 
engagement.    My  word  on  it  he  will  do  it." 

"  Of  course,  and  make  me  the  town  talk  for  the  delight  of  all 
who  envy  me." 

"  Better  be  that  than  an  unloving  wife." 

"  'No,  Bee !  I  must  fulfill  my  destiny.  And,  besides,  I  neve? 
thought  of  turning  from  it.  I  am  in  the  power  of  the  whirlpool 
or  the  demon." 

"  It  is  the  demon — the  demon  that  is  carrying  you  dovm 
into  this  whirlpool.  And  the  name  of  the  demon  is  Ambition, 
Claudia;  and  the  name  of  the  whirlpool  is  Ruin." 

"  Yes !  it  is  ambition  that  possesses  my  soul.  None  other 
but  the  sins  by  which  angels  fell  would  have  power  to  draw  my 
soul  down  from  heaven — for  heaven  was  possible  to  me,  once !  " 
And  with  these  last  words  she  melted  into  tears  and  wept  as 
if  the  fountains  of  her  heart  were  broken  up  and  gushing 
through  her  eyes. 

"  Yes,"  she  repeated  in  the  pauses  of  her  weeping.  "  Heaven 
was  possible  for  me  once  I    Never  more,  oh,  never,  never  more ! 


Claudia's  woe.  517 

Filled  with  the  ambition  of  Lucifer  I  have  cast  myself  out  of 
that  heaven.  But  alas!  alas!  I  have  Lucifer's  ambition  with- 
out his  strength  to  suffer." 

"Claudia,  dear  Claudia!" 

"  Do  not  speak  to  me.  Let  me  speak,  for  I  must  speak,  or 
die!  It  is  not  only  that  I  do  not  love  this  viscount,  but,  oh. 
Bee ! "  she  wailed  in  the  prolonged  tones  of  unutterable  woe, 
*'  I  love  another !    I  love  Ishmael !  " 

There  was  a  sudden  movement  and  a  fall. 

"You  push  me  from  you!  Oh,  cruel  friend!  Let  me  lay 
my  head  upon  your  lap  again.  Bee,  and  sob  out  all  this  anguish 
here.  I  must,  or  my  heart  will  burst.  I  love  Ishmael!  His 
love  is  the  heaven  of  heavens  from  which  Ambition  has  cast  me 
down.  I  love  Ishmael!  Oh,  how  much,  my  reason,  utterly 
overthrown,  may  some  time  betray  to  the  world !  This  love  fills 
my  soul.  Oh,  more  than  that,  it  is  greater  than  my  soul;  it 
goes  beyond  it,  into  infinitude!  There  is  light,  warmth,  and 
life  where  Ishmael  is;  darkness,  coldness,  and  death  where  he 
is  not!  To  meet  his  eyes, — those  beautiful,  dark,  luminous 
eyes,  that  seem  like  inlets  to  some  perfect  inner  world  of  wis- 
dom, love,  and  pure  joy;  or  to  lay  my  hand  in  his,  and  feel  that 
soft,  strong,  elastic  hand  close  upon  mine, — gives  me  a  moment 
of  such  measureless  content,  such  perfect  assurance  of  peace, 
that  for  the  time  I  forget  all  the  sin  and  horror  that  envelopes 
and  curses  my  life.  But  to  be  his  beloved  wife — oh,  Bee!  I 
cannot  imagine  in  the  life  of  heaven  a  diviner  happiness!" 

A  low,  half-suppressed  cry  from  Bee.  And  Claudia  con- 
tinued : 

"It  is  a  love  that  all  which  is  best  in  my  nature  approves. 
Tor  oh,  who  is  like  Ishmael?  Who  so  wise,  so  good,  so  useful? 
Morally,  intellectually,  and  physically  beautiful!  an  Apollo! 
more  than  that,  a  Christian  gentleman!  He  is  human,  and 
yet  he  appears  to  me  to  be  perfectly  faultless." 

There  was  a  pause  and  a  low  sound  of  weeping,  broken  at  last 
by  Claudia,  who  rustled  up  to  her  feet,  saying : 

"There,  it  is  past!" 

"  Claudia,"  said  Bee  solemnly,  "  you  must  not  let  this  mar- 
riage go  on ;  to  do  so  would  be  to  commit  the  deadliest  sin ! " 

"I  have  determined  to  commit  it,  then,  Bee." 

"  Claudia,  if  I  saw  you  on  the  brink  of  endless  woe,  would 
I  not  be  justified  in  trying  to  pluck  you  back?  Oh,  Claudia, 
dear  cousin,  pause,  reflect " 


518      ishmael;  or,  ln"  the  depths. 

"  Bee,  hush !  I  have  reflected  until  my  brain  has  nearly 
burst.  I  must  fulfill  my  destiny.  I  must  be  a  peeress  of  Eng- 
land, cost  what  it  may  in  sin  against  others,  or  in  suffering  to 
myseK." 

"  Oh,  what  an  awful  resolution !  and  what  an  awful  defiance ! 
Ah,  what  have  you  invoked  upon  your  head ! " 

"  I  know  not — the  curse  of  Heaven,  perhaps !  " 

"  Claudia ! " 

*'  Be  silent.  Bee !  " 

"  I  must  not,  cannot,  wiU  not,  be  silent !  My  hand  is  weak, 
but  it  shall  grasp  your  arm  to  hold  you  back;  my  voice  is  low, 
but  it  shall  be  raised  in  remonstrance  with  you.  You  may 
break  from  my  hold;  you  may  deafen  yourself  to  my  words; 
you  may  escape  me  so ;  but  it  will  be  to  cast  yourseK  into " 

"  Lawyer  Vivian's  '  gulf  of  perdition ' !  Is  that  what  you 
mean?  Xonsense,  Bee.  My  hysterics  are  over  now;  my  hour 
of  weakness  is  past;  I  am  myseK  again.  And  I  feel  that  I  shall 
be  Lady  Vincent — the  envy  of  Washington,  the  admiration  of 
London,  the  only  titled  lady  of  the  republican  court,  and  the 
only  beauty  at  St.  James ! "  said  Claudia,  rustling  a  deep 
courtesy. 

"  Claudia " 

"  And  in  time  I  shall  be  Countess  of  Hurstmonceux,  and  per- 
haps after  a  while  Marchioness  of  Banff;  for  Vincent  thinks 
if  the  Conservatives  come  in  his  father  will  be  raised  a  step  in 
the  peerage." 

"And  is  it  for  that  you  sell  yourself?  Oh,  Claudia,  how- 
Satan  fools  you!  Be  rational;  consider:  what  is  it  to  be*  a 
countess,  or  even  a  marchioness  ?  It  is  '  distance  lends  en- 
chantment to  the  view.'  Here  in  this  country,  where,  thank 
the  Lord,  there  is  no  hereditary  rank, — no  titles  and  no  coro- 
nets,— these  things,  from  their  remoteness,  impress  your  imag- 
ination, and  disturb  your  judgment.  You  will  not  feel  so  in 
England;  there,  where  there  are  hundreds  and  thousands  of 
titled  personages,  your  coveted  title  will  sink  to  its  proper  level, 
and  you  will  find  yourself  of  much  less  importance  in  London 
as  Lady  Vincent,  than  you  are  in  Washington  as  Miss  Merlin. 
There  you  will  find  how  little  you  have  really  gained  by  the 
sacrifice  of  truth,  honor,  and  purity;  all  that  is  best  in  your 
woman's  nature — all  that  is  best  in  your  earthly,  yes,  and  your 
eternal  life." 

"  Bee,  have  you  done  ? " 


CLAUDLi's    WOE.  519 

"  'No.  You  have  given  me  two  reasons  why  I  think  you 
ought  not  to  marry  the  viscount :  first,  because  you  do  not  love 
him,  and  secondly,  because  you  do  love — someone  else.  And 
now  I  will  give  you  two  more  reasons  why  you  should  not  marry 
him — viz.,  first,  because  he  is  not  a  good  man,  and,  secondly, 
because  he  does  not  love  you.     There !  "  said  Beatrice  firmly. 

"  Bee,  how  dare  you  say  that !  What  should  you  know  of  his 
character  ?    And  why  should  you  think  he  does  not  love  me  ?  " 

"  I  feel  that  he  is  not  a  good  man ;  so  do  you,  I  will  venture 
to  say,  Claudia.  And  I  know  that  he  marries  you  for  some  sel- 
fish or  mercenary  motive — your  money,  possibly.  And  so  also 
do  you  know  it,  Claudia,  I  dare  to  affirm." 

"  Have  you  anything  more  to  say  ?  " 

"  Only  this :  to  beg,  to  pray,  to  urge  you  not  to  sin — not  to 
debase  yourself !  Oh,  Claudia,  if  loving  Ishmael  as  you  profess 
to  do,  and  loathing  the  viscount  as  you  confess  you  do,  and 
knowing  that  he  cares  nothing  for  you,  you  still  marry  him  for 
his  title  and  his  rank,  as  you  admit  you  will — Claudia  !  Claudia  ! 
in  the  pure  sight  of  angels  you  will  be  more  guilty,  and  less 
pardonable  than  the  poor  lost  creatures  of  the  pavement,  whose 
shadow  you  would  scarcely  allow  to  fall  across  your  path ! " 

"  Bee,  you  insult,  you  offend,  you  madden  me !  If  this  be 
so — if  you  speak  the  truth — I  cannot  help  it,  and  I  do  not  care. 
I  am  ambitious.  If  I  immolate  all  my  womanly  feelings  to  be- 
come a  peeress,  it  is  as  I  would  certainly  and  ruthlessly  destroy 
everything  that  stood  in  my  way  to  become  a  queen,  if  that 
were  possible." 

"  Good  heavens,  Claudia !  are  you  then  really  a  fiend  in  fe- 
male form  i "  exclaimed  the  dismayed  girl. 

"  I  do  not  know.  I  may  be  so.  I  think  Satan  has  taken 
possession  of  me  since  my  betrothal.  At  least  I  feel  that  I 
could  be  capable  of  great  crimes  to  secure  great  ends,"  said 
Claudia  recklessly. 

"  And,  oh,  Heaven !  the  opportunity  will  be  surely  afforded 
you,  if  you  do  not  repent.  Satan  takes  good  care  to  give  his 
servants  the  fullest  freedom  to  develop  their  evil.  Oh,  Claudia, 
for  the  love  of  Heaven,  stop  where  you  are  !  go  no  further.  TouJ 
next  step  on  this  sinftil  road  may  make  retreat  impossible. 
Break  off  this  marriage  at  once.  Better  the  broken  troth — ^b©t- 
ter  the  nine  days'  wonder — than  the  perjured  bride,  and  the 
loveless,  sinful  nuptials !  You  said  you  were  ambitious.  Clau- 
dia ! "  here  Bee's  voice  grew  almost  inaudible  from  intense 


520      ishmael;  oe,  in  the  depths. 

passion — "  Claudia !  you  do  not  know — you  cannot  know  what 
it  costs  me  to  say  what  I  am  about  to  say  to  you  now;  but — 
I  will  say  it:  You  love  Ishmael.  Well,  he  loves  you — ah!  far 
better  than  you  love  him,  or  than  you  are  capable  of  loving  any- 
one. For  you  all  his  toils  have  been  endured,  all  his  laurels 
won.  Claudia !  be  proud  of  this  great  love ;  it  is  a  hero's  love — 
a  poet's  love.  Claudia!  you  have  received  much  adulation  in. 
your  life,  and  you  will  receive  much  more ;  but  you  never  have 
received,  and  you  never  will,  so  high  an  honor  as  you  have  in 
Ishmael's  love.  It  is  a  crown  of  glory  to  your  life.  You  are  am- 
bitious !  Well,  wait  for  him ;  give  him  a  few  short  years  and  he 
will  attain  honors,  not  hereditary,  but  all  his  own.  He  will 
reach  a  position  that  the  proudest  woman  may  be  proud  to  share ; 
and  his  wife  shall  take  a  higher  rank  among  American  ma- 
trons than  the  wife  of  a  mere  nobleman  can  reach  in  England. 
And  his  untitled  name,  like  that  of  Csesar,  shall  be  a  title  in 
itself." 

"  Bee !  Bee !  you  wring  my  heart  in  two.  You  drive  me  mad. 
It  cannot  be,  I  tell  you !  It  can  never  be.  He  may  rise — there 
is  no  doubt  but  that  he  will!  But  let  him  rise  ever  so  high, 
I  cannot  be  his  wife — his  wife !  Horrible !  I  came  of  a  race 
of  which  all  the  men  were  brave,  and  all  the  women  pure !  And 
he " 

"  Is  braver  than  the  bravest  man  of  your  race !  purer  than 
the  purest  woman !  "  interrupted  Bee  fervently. 

"  He  is  the  child  of  shame,  and  his  heritage  is  dishonor ! 
He  bears  his  mother's  maiden  name,  and  she  was — the  scorn  of 
his  sex  and  the  reproach  of  ours!  And  this  is  the  man  you 
advise  me,  Claudia  Merlin,  whose  hand  is  sought  in  marriage 
by  the  heir  of  one  of  the  oldest  earldoms  in  England,  to  marry ! 
Bee,  the  insult  is  unpardonable!  You  might  as  well  advise 
me  to  marry  my  father's  footman !  and  better,  for  Powers  came 
at  least  of  honest  parents !  "  said  Claudia,  speaking  in  the  mad, 
reckless,  defiant  way  in  which  those  conscious  of  a  bad  argu- 
ment passionately  defend  their  point. 

For  a  few  moments  Bee  seemed  speechless  with  indignation. 
Then  she  burst  forth  vehemently: 

"  It  is  false !  as  false  as  the  Father  of  Falsehood  himself ! 
When  thorns  produce  figs,  or  the  deadly  nightshade  nectarines; 
when  eaglets  are  hatched  in  owls'  nests  and  young  lions  spring 
from  rat  holes,  then  I  may  believe  these  foul  slanders  of  Ish- 
mael and  his  parents.     Shame  on  you,  Claudia  Merlin,  for  re* 


Claudia's  woe.  521 

peating  them!  You  have  shown  me  much  evil  In  your  heart 
to-night;  but  nothing  so  bad  as  that!  Ishmael  is  nature's 
gentleman!  His  mother  must  have  been  pure  and  lovely  and 
loving !  his  father  good  and  wise  and  brave !  else  how  could  they 
have  given  this  son  to  the  world !  And  did  you  forget,  Claudia, 
when  you  spoke  those  cruel  words  of  him,  did  you  forget  that 
only  a  little  while  ago  you  admitted  that  you  loved  him,  and 
that  all  which  was  best  in  your  nature  approved  that  love  ? " 

"  No,  I  did  not  and  do  not  forget  it !  It  was  and  it  is  true ! 
But  what  of  that  ?    I  may  not  be  able  to  help  adoring  him  for 

his  personal  excellence!    But  to  be  his  wife — the  wife  of  a 

Horrible ! " 

"Have  you  forgotten,  Claudia,  that  only  a  few  minutes  ago 
you  said  that  you  could  not  conceive  of  a  diviner  happiness 
than  to  be  the  beloved  wife  of  Ishmael  ? " 

"No,  I  have  not  forgotten  it!  And  I  spoke  the  truth!  but 
that  joy  which  I  could  so  keenly  appreciate  can  never,  never 
be  mine!  And  that  is  the  secret  of  my  madness — for  I  am 
mad,  Bee!  And,  oh,  I  came  here  to-night  with  my  torn  and 
bleeding  heart — torn  and  bleeding  from  the  dreadful  battle 
between  love  and  pride — came  here  with  my  suffering  heart; 
my  sinful  heart  if  you  will;  and  laid  it  on  your  bosom  to  be 
soothed;  and  you  have  taken  it  and  flung  it  back  in  my  face! 
You  have  broken  the  bruised  reed;  quenched  the  smoking 
flax;  humbled  the  humble;  smitten  the  fallen!  Oh,  Bee,  you 
have  been  more  cruel  than  you  know !  Good-by !  Good-by !  " 
And  she  turned  and  flung  herself  out  of  the  room. 

"  Claudia,  dear  Claudia,  oh,  forgive  me !  I  did  not  mean  to 
wound  you ;  if  I  spoke  harshly  it  was  because  I  felt  for  both ! 
Claudia,  come  back,  love !  "  cried  Bee,  hurrying  after  her ;  but 
Claudia  was  gone.  Bee  would  have  followed  her;  but  little 
liu's  voice  was  heard  in  plaintive  notes.  Bee  returned  to  the 
room  to  find  her  little  sister  lying  awake  with  wide-open,  fright- 
ened eyes. 

"  Oh,  Bee !  don't  do !  and  don't  let  she  tome  bat.  She  stares 
Lu!" 

"  Shall  Bee  take  Lu  up  and  rock  her  to  sleep  ? " 

"  'Es." 

Bee  gently  lifted  the  little  one  and  sat  down  in  the  rocking- 
chair  and  began  to  rock  slowly  and  sing  softly.  But  presently 
she  stopped  and  whispered: 

"Baby!" 


522      ishmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

"  'Es,  Bee." 

"  Do  you  love  cousin  Claudia  ?  " 

"  'Es,  but  she  wates  me  up  and  stares  me ;  don't  let  she  tome 
adain,  Bee." 

"No,  I  will  not;  but  poor  Claudia  is  not  happy;  won't  you 
ask  the  Lord  to  bless  poor  Claudia?  He  hears  little  children 
like  you ! " 

"  'Es ;  tell  me  what  to  say.  Bee."  And  without  another  word 
the  little  one  slid  down  upon  her  knees  and  folded  her  hands, 
while  Bee  taught  the  sinless  child  to  pray  for  the  sinful 
woman. 

And  then  she  took  the  babe  again  upon  her  lap,  and  rocked 
slowly  and  sung  softly  until  she  soothed  her  to  sleep. 

Then  Bee  arose  and  rustled  softly  about  the  room,  making 
her  simple  toilet  before  going  to  the  saloon  to  join  the  guests. 


CHAPTER  LXV. 

ISHMAEL'S  "WOE. 

And  with  another's  crime,  my  birth 
She  taunted  me  as  little  worth, 
Because,  forsooth,  I  could  not  claim 
The  lawful  heirship  of  my  name  ; 
Yet  were  a  few  short  summers  mine, 
My  name  should  more  than  ever  shine, 
With  honors  all  my  own! 

— Byron. 

Ishmael  sat  in  the  shadows  of  his  room  overwhelmed  witH 
shame  and  sorrow  and  despair.  He  had  heard  every  cruel  word ; 
they  had  entered  his  ears  and  pierced  his  heart.  And  not  only 
for  himself  he  bowed  his  head  and  sorrowed  and  despaired, 
but  for  her;  for  her,  proud,  selfish,  sinful,  but  loving,  and  oh, 
how  fatally  beloved! 

It  was  not  only  that  he  worshiped  her  with  a  blind  idolatry, 
and  knew  that  she  returned  his  passion  with  equal  strength  and 
fervor,  and  that  she  would  have  waited  for  him  long  years, 
and  married  him  at  last  but  for  the  cloud  upon  his  birth.  It 
was  not  this — not  his  own  misery  that  crushed  him,  nor  even 
her  preserft  vsTetchedness  that  prostrated  him — no!  but  it  wa3 
the  awful,  shapeless  shadow  of  some  infinite  unutterable  woe 
in  Claudia's  future,  and  into  which  she  was  blindly  rushing. 


ishmael's  woe.  523 

that  overwhelmed  him.  Oh,  to  have  saved  her  from  this  woe, 
he  would  gladly  have  laid  down  his  life! 

The  door  opened  and  Jim,  his  especial  waiter,  entered  with 
two  lighted  candles  on  a  tray.  He  sa1>  them  on  the  table  and 
was  leaving  the  room,  when  Ishmael  recalled  him.  What  I  am 
about  to  relate  is  a  trifle  perhaps,  but  it  will  serve  to  show  the 
perfect  beauty  of  that  nature  which,  in  the  midst  of  its  own 
great  sorrow,  could  think  of  the  small  wants  of  another. 

"  Jim,  you  asked  me  this  morning  to  write  a  letter  for  you, 
to  your  mother,  I  think." 

"  Yes,  Master  Ishmael,  I  thank  you,  sir ;  whenever  you  is 
at  leisure,  sir,  with  nothing  to  do;  which  I  wouldn't  presume 
to  be  in  a  hurry,  sir,  nor  likewise  onconvenience  you  the 
least  in  the  world."  ■ 

"  It  will  not  inconvenience  me,  Jim ;  it  will  give  me  pleasure, 
■whenever  you  can  spare  me  half  an  hour,"  replied  Ishmael, 
speaking  with  as  much  courtesy  to  the  poor  dependent  as  he 
would  have  used  in  addressing  his  wealthiest  patron. 

"  Well,  Master  Ishmael,  which  I  ought  to  say  Mr.  Worth, 
and  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,  only  it  is  the  old  love  as  makes  me 
forget  myself,  and  call  you  what  I  used  to  in  the  old  days,  be- 
cause Mr.  Worth  do  seem  to  leave  me  so  far  away " 

"  Call  me  what  you  please,  Jim,  we  are  old  friends,  and  I 
love  my  old  friends  better  than  any  new  distinctions  that  could 
come  between  us,  but  which  I  will  never  allow  to  separate  us. 
What  were  you  about  to  say,  Jim?" 

"  Well,  Master  Ishmael,  and  I  thank  you  sincere,  sir,  for 
letting  of  me  call  you  so,  I  was  going  for  to  say,  as  I  could  be 
at  your  orders  any  time,  even  now,  if  it  woidd  suit  you,  sir; 
because  I  have  lighted  up  all  my  rooms  and  set  my  table  for 
dinner,  which  it  is  put  back  an  hour  because  of  Master  Walter, 
who  is  expected  by  the  six  o'clock  train  this  evening;  and  Sam 
is  waiting  in  the  hall,  and  I  aint  got  anything  very  partic'lar 
to  do  for  the  next  hour  or  so." 

"  Very  well,  Jim ;  sit  down  in  that  chair  and  tell  me  what 
you  want  me  to  write,"  said  Ishmael,  seating  himself  before 
his  desk  and  dipping  his  i)en  in  inlc. 

Yes,  it  was  a  small  matter  in  itself;  buf  it  was  characteristic 
of  the  man,  thus  to  put  aside  hia  own  poignant  anguish  to  in- 
terest himself  in  the  welfare  of  the  humblest  creature  who  in* 
yoked  his  aid. 

"  Now  then,  Jim." 


524  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

"Well,  Master  Ishmael,"  said  the  poor  fellow.  "You  know 
■what  to  say  a  heap  better'n  I  do.     Write  it  beautiful,  please." 

"  Tell  me  what  is  in  your  heart,  Jim,  and  then  I  will  do  the 
best  I  can,"  said  Ishmael,  who  possessed  the  rare  gift  of  draw- 
ing out  from  others  the  best  that  was  in  their  thoughts. 

"  Well,  sir,  I  think  a  heap  o'  my  ole  mother,  I  does ;  'member- 
ing  how  she  did  foh  me  when  I  was  a  boy  and  wondering  if 
anybody  does  for  her  now,  and  if  she  is  comfortable  down  there 
at  Tanglewood.  And  I  wants  her  to  know  it;  and  not  to  be 
a-thinking  as  I  forgets  her." 

Ishmael  wrote  rapidly  for  a  few  moments  and  then  looked  up. 

"  What  else,  Jim  ?  " 

*'  Well,  sir,  tell  her  as  I  have  saved  a  heap  of  money  for  her 
out'n  the  presents  the  gemmen  made  me  o'  Christmas,  and  I'll 
bring  it  to  her  when  I  come  down — which  the  ole  'oman  do 
love  money,  sir,  better  than  she  do  anything  in  this  world,  'cept 
it  is  me  and  old  marster  and  Miss  Claudia.  And  likewise  what 
she  wants  me  to  bring  her  from  town,  and  whether  she  would 
like  a  red  gownd  or  a  yallow  one." 

Ishmael  set  down  this  and  looked  up. 

''Well,  Jim?" 

*'  Well,  sir,  tell  her  how  she  aint  got  no  call  to  be  anxious  nor 
likewise  stressed  in  her  mind,  nor  lay  'wake  o'  nights  thinking 
'bout  me,  fear  I  should  heave  myself  'way,  marrying  of  these  yer 
trifling  city  gals  as  don't  know  a  spinning  wheel  from  a  har- 
row. And  how  I  aint  seen  nobody  yet  as  I  like  better'n  my 
■ole  mother  and  the  young  lady  of  color  as  she  knows  'bout 
and  'proves  of;  which,  sir,  it  aint  nobody  else  but  your  own  re- 
spected aunt,  Miss  Hannah's  Miss  Sally,  as  lives  at  Woodside." 

"  I  have  put  all  that  down,  Jim." 

"Well,  sir,  and  about  the  grand  wedding  as  is  to  be  to-mor- 
row, sir;  and  how  the  Bishop  of  Maryland  is  going  to  'form 
"the  ceremony;  and  how  the  happy  pair  be  going  to  go  0*1  a 
grand  tower,  and  then  going  to  visit  Tanglewood  afore  they 
parts  for  the  old  country;  and  how  she  will  see  a  rale,  livin' 
lord  as  she'll  be  'stonished  to  see  look  so  like  any  other  man ;  and 
last  ways  how  Miss  Claudia  do  talk  about  taking  me  and  Miss 
Sally  along  of  her  to  foreign  parts,  because  she  prefers  to  be 
waited  on  by  colored  ladies  and  gentlemen  'fore  white  ones; 
and  likewise  how  I  would  wish  to  go  and  see  the  world,  only 
I  won't  go,  nor  likewise  would  Miss  Claudia  wish  to  take  me, 
if  the  ole  'oman  wishes  otherwise." 


ishmael's  woe.  525 

Ishmael  wrote  and  then  looked  up.  Poor  Jim,  absorbed  in 
his  own  affairs,  did  not  notice  how  pale  the  writer's  face  had 
grown,  or  suspect  how  often  during  the  last  few  minutes  he 
had  stabbed  him  to  the  heart. 

"  Well,  sir,  that  is  about  all  I  think.  Master  Ishmael,  Only, 
please,  sir,  put  it  all  down  in  your  beautiful  language  as  makes 
the  ladies  cry  when  you  gets  up  and  speaks  afore  the  great 
judges  theirselves." 

"  I  will  do  my  best,  Jim." 

"  Thank  you,  sir.  And  please  sign  my  name  to  it,  not  youm 
— my  name — James  Madison  Monroe  Mortimer." 

"  Yes,  Jim." 

"  And  please  direct  it  to  Mistress  Catharine  Maria  Mortimer, 
m.ost  in  general  called  by  friends,  Aunt  Katie,  as  is  housekeeper 
at  Tanglewood." 

Ishmael  complied  with  his  requests  as  far  as  discretion  per- 
mitted. 

"And  now,  sir,  please  read  it  all  out  aloud  to  me,  so  I  can 
hear  how  it  sound." 

Ishmael  complied  with  this  request  also,  and  read  the  letter 
aloud,  to  the  immense  delight  of  Jim,  who  earnestly  expressed 
his  approbation  in  the  emphatic  words : 

"Now — that — is — beautiful!  Thank  y*,  sir!  That  is  ekal 
to  anything  as  ever  I  heard  out'n  the  pulpit — and  sides  which, 
sir,  it  is  all  true,  true  as  gospel,  sir.  It  is  just  exactly  what 
I  thinks  and  how  I  feels  and  what  I  wants  to  say,  only  I  aint 
got  the  words.  Won't  mother  be  proud  o'  that  letter  nyther? 
Why,  laws,  sir,  the  ole  'oman  '11  get  the  minister  to  read  that 
letter.  And  then  she'll  make  everybody  as  comes  to  the  house 
as  can  read,  read  it  over  and  over  again  for  the  pride  she  takes 
in  it,  till  she'll  fairly  know  it  all  by  heart,"  etc.,  etc.,  etc. 

For  Jim  went  on  talking  and  smiling  and  covering  the  writer 
all  over  with  gratitude  and  affection,  until  he  was  interrupted 
by  the  stopping  of  a  carriage,  the  ringing  of  a  door  bell,  and 
the  sound  of  a  sudden  arrival. 

"  There's  Master  Walter  Middleton  now,  as  sure  as  the  world  I 
I  must  run!  Dinner  '11  be  put  on  the  table  soon's  ever  he's 
changed  his  dress.  I'm  a  thousand  times  obleeged  to  you,  sir, 
I  am,  indeed,  everlasting  obleeged!  I  wish  I  could  prove  it 
some  way.  Mother  '11  be  so  pleased."  And  talking  all  the  way 
downstairs,  Jim  took  himself  and  his  delight  away. 

Ishmael  sighed,  and  arose  to  dress  for  dinner.    His  kindness 


526  ISHMAEL  ;    OK,  12^   TILE    DEPTHS. 

had  not  been  without  its  reward.  The  little  divertisement  of 
Jim's  letter  had  done  him  good.  Blessed  little  offices  of  lov- 
ing-kindness— what  ministering  angels  are  they  to  the  donor  as 
well  as  the  receiver!  With  some  degree  of  self-possession 
Ishmael  completed  his  toilet  and  turned  to  leave  the  room, 
when  the  sound  of  someone  rushing  up  the  stairs  like  a  storm 
arrested  his  steps. 

Then  a  voice  sounded  outside: 

"  Which  is  Ishmael's  room  ?  Bother !  Oh,  here  it  is !  "  and 
Bee's  door  was  opened.    "  No !  calico !    Ah !  now  I'm  right." 

And  the  next  instant  Walter  Middleton  burst  open  the  door 
and  rushed  in,  exclaiming  joyfully,  as  he  seized  and  shook  the 
hands  of  his  friend: 

"Ah,  here  you  are,  old  fellow!  God  bless  you!  How  glad 
I  am  to  see  you !  You  are  still  the  first  love  of  my  heart,  Ish- 
mael. Damon,  your  Pythias  has  not  even  a  sweetheart  to  dis- 
pute your  empire  over  him.  How  are  you?  I  have  heard  of 
your  success.  Wasn't  is  glorious!  You're  a  splendid  fellow, 
Ishmael,  and  I'm  proud  of  you.  You  may  have  Bee,  if  you  want 
her.  I  always  thought  there  was  a  bashful  kindness  between, 
you  two.  And  there  isn't  a  reason  in  the  world  why  you 
shouldn't  have  her.  And  so  her  Eoyal  Highness,  the  Princess 
Claudia,  has  caught  a  Lord,  has  she?  Well,  you  know  she  al- 
ways said  she  would,  and  she  has  kept  her  word.  But,  I  say, 
how  are  you  ?  How  do  you  wear  your  honors  ?  How  do  the  toga 
and  the  bays  become  you  ?  Turn  around  and  let  us  have  a  look 
at  you."  And  so  the  affectionate  fellow  rattled  on,  shaking 
both  Ishmael's  hands  every  other  second,  until  he  had  talked 
himself  fairly  out  of  breath. 

"And  how  are  you,  dear  Walter?  But  I  need  not  ask;  you 
look  so  well  and  happy,"  said  Ishmael,  as  soon  as  he  could  get 
in  a  word. 

"Me?  Oh,  I'm  well  enough.  Nought's  never  in  danger. 
I've  just  graduated,  you  know;  with  the  highest  honors,  they 
say.  My  thesis  won  the  great  prize ;  that  was  because  you  were 
not  in  the  same  class,  you  know.  I  have  my  diploma  in  my 
pocket;  I'm  an  M.  D. ;  I  can  write  myself  doctor,  and  poison 
people,  without  danger  of  being  tried  for  murder!  isn't  that  a 
privilege  ?  Now  let  my  enemies  take  care  of  themselves !  Why 
don't  you  congratulate  me,  you " 

"  I  do,  with  all  my  heart  and  soul,  Walter ! " 

"  That's  right !  only  I  had  to  drag  it  from  you.    Well,  so  I'm 


ishmael's  woe.  527 

to  be  '  best  man '  to  this  noble  bridegroom.  Too  much  honor. 
I  am  not  prepared  for  it.  One  cannot  get  ready  for  graduating 
and  marrying  at  the  same  time.  I  don't  think  I  have  got  a 
thing  fit  to  wear.  I  wrote  to  Bee  to  buy  me  some  fine  shirts, 
and  some  studs,  and  gloves,  and  handkerchiefs,  and  hair  oil, 
and  things  proper  for  the  occasion.    I  wonder  if  she  did  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  I  know  that  she  has  been  overwhelmed  with 
care  for  the  last  month,  too  much  care  for  a  girl,  so  it  is  just 
possible  that  she  has  had  no  opportunity.  Indeed,  she  has  a 
great  deal  to  think  of  and  to  do." 

"  Oh,  it  won't  hurt  her ;  especially  if  it  consists  of  prepara- 
tions for  the  wedding." 

A  bell  rang. 

"  There  now,  Ishmael,  there  is  that  diabolical  dinner-bell ! 
You  may  look,  but  it  is  true:  a  dinner-bell  that  peals  out  at 
seven  o'clock  in  the  evening  is  a  diabolical  dinner-bell.  At 
college  we  dine  at  twelve  meridian,  sharp,  and  sup  at  six.  It 
is  dreadful  to  sit  at  table  a  whole  hour,  and  be  bored  by  seeing 
other  people  eat,  and  pretending  to  eat  yourself,  when  you  are 
not  hungry.  Well,  there's  no  help  for  it.  Come  down  and  be 
bored,  Ishmael." 

They  went  down  into  the  drawing  room,  where  quite  a  large 
circle  of  near  family  connections  were  assembled. 

Walter  Middleton  was  presented  to  the  Viscount  Vincent, 
who  was  the  only  stranger,  to  him,  present. 

Claudia  was  there,  looking  as  calm,  as  self-possessed  and 
queenly,  as  if  she  had  not  passed  through  a  storm  of  passion 
two  hours  before. 

Ishmael  glanced  at  her  and  saw  the  change  with  amazement, 
but  he  dared  not  trust  himself  to  look  again. 

The  dinner  party,  with  all  this  trouble  under  the  surface, 
passed  off  in  superficial  gayety.  The  guests  separated  early, 
because  the  following  morning  would  usher  in  the  wedding 
day. 


528  ishmael;  oe,  es"  the  DEPTHa 


CHAPTER  LXVI. 

THE  MARRIAGE  MORNING. 

I  trust  that  never  more  in  this  world's  shade 

Thine  eyes  will  be  upon  me  :  never  more 
Thy  face  come  back  to  me.    For^thou  hast  made 

My  whole  life  sore. 
Fare  hence,  and  be  forgotten  .  .  ,  Sing  thy  aong, 

And  braid  thy  brow, 
And  be  beloved  and  beautiful — and  be 

In  beauty  baleful  still  ...  a  Serpent  Queen 
To  others  not  yet  curst  in  loving  thee 
As  I  have  been! 

— Meredith, 

Ishmael  awoke.  After  a  restless  night,  followed  by  an  hour's 
complete  forgetfulness,  that  more  nearly  resembled  the  swoon 
of  exhaustion  than  the  sleep  of  health,  Ishmael  awoke  to  a  new 
sense  of  wretchedness. 

You  who  have  suffered  know  what  such  awakenings  are. 
You  have  seen  someone  dearer  than  life  die;  but  hours,  days, 
or  weeks  of  expectation  have  gradually  prepared  you  for  the  last 
scene;  and  though  you  have  seen  the  dear  one  die,  and  though 
you  have  wept  yourself  half  blind  and  half  dead,  you  have  slept 
the  sleep  of  utter  oblivion,  which  is  like  death;  but  you  have 
at  last  awakened  and  returned  to  consciousness  to  meet  the 
shock  of  memory  and  the  sense  of  sorrow  a  thousand  times  more 
overwhelming  than  the  first  blow  of  bereavement  had  been. 

Or  you  have  been  for  weeks  looking  forward  to  the  parting 
of  one  whose  presence  is  the  very  light  of  your  days.  And 
in  making  preparations  for  that  event  the  thought  of  coming 
separation  has  been  somewhat  dulled;  but  at  last  all  is  ready; 
the  last  night  has  come;  you  all  separate  and  go  to  bed,  with 
the  mutual  injunction  to  be  up  early  in  the  morning  for  the 
sake  of  seeing  "  him  " — it  may  be  some  brave  volunteer  going 
to  war — off;  after  laying  awake  nearly  all  night  you  suddenly 
drop  into  utter  forgetfulness  of  impending  grief,  and  into  some 
sweet  dream  of  pleasantness  and  peace.  You  awake  with  a 
start;  the  hour  has  come;  the  hour  of  parting;  the  hour  of 
doom. 

Yes,  whatever  the  grief  may  be,  it  is  in  the  hour  of  such 
awakenings  we  feel  it  most  poignantly. 

Thus  it  was  with  Ishmael.    The  instant  he  awoke  the  spear 


THE    MARRIAGE   MORNING.  52"^ 

of  memory  transfixed  his  soul.  He  could  have  cried  out  in 
his  agony.  It  took  all  his  manhood  to  control  his  pain.  He 
arose  and  dressed  himself  and  offered  up  his  morning  worship 
and  went  to  the  breakfast  room,  resolved  to  pass  through  the 
day's  fiery  ordeal,  cost  what  it  might. 

Claudia  was  not  at  breakfast.  In  fact,  she  seldom  or  never 
appeared  at  the  breakfast  table;  and  this  morning  of  all  morn- 
ings it  was  quite  natural  she  should  be  absent.  But  Mrs.  Mid- 
dleton  and  Bee,  Judge  Merlin,  Mr.  Middleton,  Mr.  Brudenell, 
Walter,  and  Ishmael  were  present.  It  was  in  order  that  people 
should  be  merry  on  a  marriage  morning;  but  somehow  or  other 
that  order  was  not  followed.  Judge  Merlin,  Mrs.  Middleton,, 
and  Bee  were  imusually  grave  and  silent;  Mr.  Brudenell  was 
always  sad;  Ishmael  was  no  conventional  talker,  and  therefore 
could  not  seem  other  than  he  was — very  serious.  It  was  quite 
in  vain  that  Mr.  Middleton  and  Walter  tried  to  get  up  a  little 
jesting  and  badinage.  And  when  the  constraint  of  the  break- 
fast table  was  over  everyone  felt  relieved. 

"Remember,"  said  Mrs.  Middleton,  with  her  hand  upon  the 
back  of  her  chair,  "  that  the  carriages  will  be  at  the  door  at 
half -past  ten ;  it  is  now  half -past  nine." 

"  And  that  means  that  we  have  but  an  hour  to  get  on  our 
wedding  garments,"  said  Walter.  "  Bee,  have  you  got  my 
finery  ready  ?  " 

"  You  will  find  everything  you  require  laid  out  on  your  bed, 
Walter." 

"You  are  the  best  little  sister  that  ever  was  born.  I  doubt 
whether  I  shall  let  Ishmael,  or  anyone  else,  have  you  until  I 
get  a  wife  of  my  own ;  and  even  then  I  don't  know  but  what 
I  shall  want  you  home  to  look  after  her  and  the  children !  " 
rattled  Walter,  careless  or  unobservant  of  the  deep  blush  that 
mantled  the  maiden's  face. 

"  Ishmael,"  said  the  judge,  "  I  wish  you  to  take  the  fourth 
seat  in  the  carriage  with  myself  and  daughter  and  Beatrice. 
Will  you  do  so  ?  " 

Ishmael's  emotions  nearly  choked  him,  but  he  answered: 

"  Certainly,  if  you  wish." 

"  The  four  bridesmaids  will  fill  the  second  carriage,  and  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Middleton,  Mr.  Brudenell  and  Walter  the  third.  I  do 
not  know  the  arrangements  made  for  our  other  friends;  but  I 
dare  say  it  is  all  right.  Oh,  Ishmael,  I  feel  as  though  we  were 
arranging  a  procession  to  the  grave  instead  of  the  altar,"  he 


530  ishmael;  oe,  est  the  depths. 

added,  witli  a  heavy  sigh.     Then  correcting  himself,  he  said  J 
*'  But  this  is  all  very  morbid.    So  no  more  of  it." 

And  the  judge  vprung  Ishmael's  hand;  and  each  went  his 
separate  vpay  to  dress  for  the  vpedding. 

Meanwhile  the  bride-elect  sat  alone  in  her  luxurious  dressing 
room. 

Around  her,  scattered  over  tables,  chairs,  and  stands,  lay  the 
splendid  paraphernalia  of  her  bridal  array — rich  dresses,  man- 
tles, bonnets,  veils,  magnificent  shawls,  sparkling  jewels,  bloom- 
ing flowers,  intoxicating  perfumes. 

On  the  superb  malachite  stand  beside  her  stood  a  silver  tray, 
on  which  was  arranged  an  elegant  breakfast  service  of  Bohe- 
mian china.    But  the  breakfast  was  untasted  and  forgotten. 

There  was  no  one  to  watch  her;  she  had  sent  her  maid  away; 
•with  orders  not  to  return  until  summoned  by  her  bell. 

And  now,  while  her  coffee  unheeded  grew  cold,  she  sat,  leaning 
forward  in  her  easy-chair,  with  her  hands  tightly  clasped  to- 
gether over  her  knees,  her  tumbled  black  ringlets  fallen  down 
upon  her  dressing  gown,  and  her  eyes  flared  open  and  fijxed 
in  a  dreadful  stare  upon  the  far  distance  as  if  spellbound  by 
some  horror  there. 

To  have  seen  her  thus,  knowing  that  she  was  a  bride-elect, 
you  might  have  judged  that  she  was  about  to  be  forced  into 
some  loathed  marriage,  from  which  her  whole  tortured  nature 
revolted. 

And  you  would  have  judged  truly.  She  was  being  thus 
forced  into  such  a  marriage,  not  by  any  tyrannical  parent  or 
guardian,  for  flesh  and  blood  could  not  have  forced  Claudia 
Merlin  into  any  measure  she  had  set  her  will  against.  She 
was  forced  by  the  demon  Pride,  who  had  taken  possession  of  her 
soul. 

And  now  she  sat  alone  with  her  sin,  dispossessed  of  all  her 
better  self,  face  to  face  with  her  lost  soul. 

She  was  aroused  by  the  entrance  of  Mrs.  Middleton — Mrs. 
Middleton  in  full  carriage-dress — robe  and  mantle  of  mauve- 
colored  moire-antique,  a  white  lace  bonnet  with  mauve-colored 
flowers,  and  white  kid  gloves  finished  at  the  vsrrists  with  mauve 
ribbon  quillings. 

"Why,  Claudia,  is  it  possible?  ITot  commenced  dressing 
yet,  and  everybody  else  ready,  and  the  clock  on  the  stroke  of 
ten!    What  have  you  been  thinking  of,  child?" 

Claudia  started  like  one  suddenly  aroused  from  sleep,  threw 


THE    MARRIAGE    MORIS^NG.  531 

her  hands  tc  her  face  as  if  to  clear  away  a  mist,  and  looked 
around. 

But  Mrs.  Middleton  had  hurried  to  the  door  and  was  calling: 

"  Here,  Alice !  Laura !  'Gena !  Lotty !     Where  are  you  ?  " 

Eeceiving  no  answer,  she  ilew  to  the  bell  and  rang  it  and 
brought  Claudia's  maid  to  the  room. 

"  Ruth,  hurry  to  the  young  ladies'  room  and  give  my  compli- 
ments, and  ask  them  to  come  here  as  soon  as  possible!  Miss 
Merlin  is  not  yet  dressed." 

The  girl  went  on  her  errand  and  Mrs.  Middleton  turned  again 
to  Claudia: 

"  Kot  even  eaten  your  breakfast  yet.  Oh,  Claudia !  "  and  she 
poured  out  a  cup  of  coffee  and  handed  it  to  her  niece. 

And  Claudia  drank  it,  because  it  was  easier  to  do  so  than  to 
expostulate. 

At  the  moment  that  Claudia  returned  the  cup  the  door  opened 
and  the  four  bridesmaids  entered — all  dressed  in  floating, 
cloud-like,  misty  white  tulle,  and  crowned  with  wreaths  of 
white  roses  and  holding  bouquets  of  the  same. 

They  laid  down  their  bouquets,  drew  off  their  white  gloves 
and  fluttered  around  the  bride  and  with  their  busy  fingers 
quickly  dressed  her  luxuriant  black  hair,  and  arrayed  her 
stately  form  in  her  superb  bridal  dress. 

This  dress  was  composed  of  an  under-skirt  of  the  richest 
white  satin  and  an  upper  robe  of  the  finest  Valenciennes  lace 
looped  up  with  bunches  of  orange  flowers.  A  bertha  of  lace  fell 
over  the  satin  bodice.  And  a  long  veil  of  lace  flowed  from  the 
queenly  head  down  to  the  tiny  foot.  A  wreath  of  orange  flow- 
ers, sprinkled  over  with  the  icy  dew  of  small  diamonds,  crowned 
her  black  ringlets.  And  diamonds  adorned  her  neck,  bosom, 
arms,  and  stomacher.  Her  bouquet  holder  was  studded  with 
diamonds,  and  her  initials  on  the  white  velvet  cover  of  her 
prayer-book  were  formed  of  tiny  seed-like  diamonds. 

No  sovereign  queen  on  her  bridal  morn  was  ever  more  richly 
arrayed.    But,  oh,  how  deadly  pale  and  cold  she  was ! 

"  There !  "  they  said  triumphantly,  when  they  had  finished 
dressing  her,  even  to  the  arranging  of  the  bouquet  of  orange 
flowers  in  its  costly  holder  and  putting  it  in  her  hand. 
"  There !  "  And  they  wheeled  the  tall  Psyche  mirror  up  before 
her,  that  she  might  view  and  admire  herself. 

She  looked  thoughtfully  at  the  image  reflected  there.  She 
looked  so  long  that  Mrs.  Middleton,  growing  impatient,  said; 


532  ISHMAEL  ;    OR,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

*'  My  love,  it  is  time  to  go." 

"  Leave  me  alone  for  a  few  minutes,  all  of  you !  I  will  not 
keep  you  waiting  long,"  said  Claudia. 

"  She  wishes  to  be  alone  to  offer  up  a  short  prayer  before 
going  to  be  married,"  was  the  thought  in  the  heart  of  each 
one  of  the  party,  as  they  filed  out  of  the  room. 

Did  Claudia  wish  to  pray  ?  Did  she  intend  to  ask  God's  pro- 
tection against  evil?  Did  she  dare  to  ask  his  blessing  on  the 
act  she  contemplated? 

We  shall  see. 

She  went  after  the  last  retreating  figure  and  closed  and 
bolted  the  door.  Then  she  returned  to  her  dressing  bureau, 
opened  a  little  secret  drawer  and  took  from  it  a  tiny  jar  of 
rouge,  and  with  a  piece  of  cotton-wool  applied  it  to  her  deathly- 
white  cheeks  until  she  had  produced  there  an  artificial  bloom,, 
more  brilliant  than  that  of  her  happiest  days,  only  because 
it  was  more  brilliant  than  that  of  nature.  Then  to  soften  its 
fire  she  powdered  her  face  with  pearl  white,  and  finally  with 
a  fine  handkerchief  carefully  dusted  off  the  superfluous  par- 
ticles. 

Having  done  this,  she  put  away  her  cosmetics  and  took  fronx 
the  same  receptacle  a  vial  of  the  spirits  of  lavender  and  mixed 
a  spoonful  of  it  with  water  and  drank  it  off. 

Then  she  returned  the  vial  to  its  place  and  locked  up  the 
secret  drawer  where  she  kept  her  deceptions. 

She  gave  one  last  look  at  the  mirror,  saw  that  between  the  ar- 
tificial bloom  and  the  artificial  stimulant  her  face  presented  a 
passable  counterfeit  of  its  long-lost  radiance;  she  drew  her 
bridal  veil  around  so  as  to  shade  it  a  little,  lowered  her  head  and 
raised  her  bouquet,  that  her  friends  might  not  see  the  suspicious, 
suddenness  of  the  transformation  from  deadly  pallor  to  living 
bloom — for  though  Claudia,  in  an  hour  of  hysterical  passion,. 
had  discovered  this  secret  of  her  toilet  to  Beatrice,  yet  she  was 
really  ashamed  of  it,  and  wished  to  conceal  it  from  all  others. 

She  opened  the  door,  went  out,  and  joined  her  friends  in  the 
hall,  saying  with  a  cheerfulness  that  she  had  found  in  the  lav- 
ender vial: 

"  I  am  quite  ready  for  the  show  now !  " 

But  she  kept  her  head  lowered  and  averted,  for  a  little  while, 
though  in  fact  her  party  were  too  much  excited  to  scrutinize 
her  appearance,  especially  as  they  had  had  a  good  view  of  her 
while  making  her  toilet. 


THE   MAERIAGE   MOENING.  533 

They  went  down  into  the  drawing  room,  where  the  family 
and  their  nearest  relations  were  assembled  and  waiting  for 
them. 

Bee  was  there,  looking  lovely  as  usual.  Bee,  who  almost 
always  wore  white  when  in  full  dress,  now  varied  from  her  cus- 
tom by  wearing  a  glace  silk  of  delicate  pale  blue,  with  a  white 
lace  mantle  and  a  white  lace  bonnet  and  veil.  Bee  did  this 
because  she  did  not  mean  to  be  mustered  into  the  bride's  ser- 
vice, or  even  mistaken  by  any  person  for  one  of  the  brides- 
maids. Beyond  her  obligatory  presence  in  the  church  as  one 
of  the  bride's  family.  Bee  was  resolved  to  have  nothing  to  do 
with  the  sacrilegious  marriage. 

"  Come,  my  dear !  Are  you  ready  ?  How  beautiful  you  are, 
my  Claudia !  I  never  paid  you  a  compliment  before,  my  child ; 
but  surely  I  may  be  excused  for  doing  so  now  that  you  are 
about  to  leave  me !  *  How  blessings  brighten  as  they  take  their 
flight,' "  whispered  the  judge,  as  he  met  and  kissed  his  daughter. 

And  certainly  Claudia's  beauty  seemed  perfectly  dazzling 
this  morning.  She  smiled  a  greeting  to  all  her  friends  assem- 
bled there,  and  then  gave  her  hand  to  her  father,  who  drew  it 
within  his  arm  and  led  her  to  the  carriage. 

Ishmael,  like  one  in  a  splendid,  terrible  dream,  from  which 
he  could  not  wake,  in  which  he  was  obliged  to  act,  went  up  to 
Bee  and  drew  her  little  white-gloved  hand  under  his  arm,  and 
led  her  after  the  father  and  daughter. 

The  other  members  of  the  marriage  party  followed  in  order. 

Besides  Judge  Merlin's  brougham  and  Mr.  Middleton's  ba- 
rouche, there  were  several  other  carriages  drawn  up  before  the 
house. 

Bee  surveyed  this  retinue  and  murmured : 

"  Indeed,  except  that  we  all  wear  light  colors  instead  of  black, 
and  the  coachmen  have  no  hat-scarfs,  this  looks  quite  as  much 
like  a  funeral  as  a  wedding." 

Ishmael  did  not  reply;  he  could  not  wake  from  the  dazzling, 
horrible  dream. 

When  they  were  seated  in  the  carriage,  Claudia  and  Bea- 
trice occupied  the  back  seat;  the  judge  and  Ishmael  the  front 
one;  the  judge  sat  opposite  Bee,  and  Ishmael  opposite  Claudia. 

The  rich  drifts  of  shining  white  satin  and  misty  white  lace 
that  formed  her  bridal  dress  floated  around  him ;  her  foot  inad- 
vertently touched  his,  and  her  warm,  balmy  breath  passed  him. 
Never  had  he  been  so  close  to  Claudia  before :  that  carriage  was 


534  ishjiael;  oe,  in"  the  depths. 

so  confined  and  crowded — dread  proximity!  The  dream  deep- 
ened; it  became  a  trance — that  strange  trance  that  sometimes 
falls  upon  the  victim  in  the  midst  of  his  sufferings  held  Ish- 
mael's  faculties  in  abeyance  and  deadened  his  sense  of  pain. 

And  indeed  the  same  spell,  though  with  less  force,  acted 
upon  all  the  party  in  that  carriage.  Its  mood  was  expectant, 
excited,  yet  dream-like.  There  was  scarcely  any  conversation. 
There  seldom  is  under  such  circumstances.  Once  the  judge 
inquired : 

"  Bee,  my  dear,  how  is  it  that  you  are  not  one  of  Claudia's 
bridesmaids  ? " 

"  I  did  not  wish  to  be,  and  Claudia  was  so  kind  as  to  excuse 
me,"  Beatrice  replied. 

"  But  why  not,  my  love  ?  I  thought  young  ladies  always 
liked  to  fill  such  positions." 

Bee  blushed  and  lowered  her  head,  but  did  not  reply. 

Claudia  answered  for  her: 

"Beatrice  does  not  like  Lord  Vincent;  and  does  not  approve 
of  the  marriage,"  she  said  defiantly. 

"  Humph ! "  exclaimed  the  judge,  and  not  another  word  was 
spoken  during  the  drive. 

It  was  a  rather  long  one.  The  church  selected  for  the  per- 
formance of  the  marriage  rites  being  St.  John's,  at  the  west 
end  of  the  town,  where  the  bridegroom  and  his  friends  were  to 
meet  the  bride  and  her  attendants. 

They  reached  the  church  at  last;  the  other  carriages  arrived 
a  few  seconds  after  them,  and  the  whole  party  alighted  and 
■went  in. 

The  bridegroom  and  his  friends  were  already  there.  And 
the  bridal  procession  formed  and  went  up  the  middle  aisle  to 
the  altar,  where  the  bishop  in  his  sacerdotal  robes  stood  ready 
to  perfoi*m  the  ceremony. 

The  bridal  party  formed  before  the  altar,  the  bishop  opened 
the  book,  and  the  ceremony  commenced.  It  proceeded  accord- 
ing to  the  ritual,  and  without  the  slightest  deviation  from  com- 
monplace routine. 

When  the  bishop  came  to  that  part  of  the  rites  in  which  he 
titters  the  awful  adjuration — "I  require  and  charge  you  both, 
as  ye  shall  answer  at  the  dreadful  day  of  judgment,  when  the 
secrets  of  all  hearts  shall  be  disclosed,  that  if  either  of  you 
know  any  impediment  why  ye  may  not  be  lawfully  joined  to- 
gether in  matrimony,  ye  do  now  confess  it.    For  be  ye  well 


THE   MAERIAGE    JrORNING.  535 

assured,  that  if  any  persons  are  joined  together,  otherwise  tliau 
God's  word  doth  allow,  their  marriage  is  not  lawful," — Bee, 
who  was  standing  with  her  mother  and  father  near  the  bridal 
circle,  looked  up  at  the  bride. 

Oh,  could  Claudia,  loving  another,  loathing  the  bridegroom, 
kneel  in  that  sacred  church,  before  that  holy  altar,  in  the  pres- 
sence  of  God's  minister,  in  the  presence  of  God  himself,  hear 
that  solemn  adjuration,  and  persevere  in  her  awful  sin? 

Yes,  Claudia  could!  as  tens  of  thousands,  from  ignorance, 
from  insensibility,  or  from  recklessness,  have  done  before  her; 
and  as  tens  of  thousands  more,  from  the  same  causes,  will  do 
after  her. 

The  ceremony  proceeded  until  it  reached  the  part  where  the 
ring  is  placed  upon  the  bride's  finger,  and  all  went  well  enough 
until,  as  they  were  rising  from  the  prayer  of  "  Our  Father," 
the  bride  happened  to  lower  her  hand,  and  the  ring,  which  was 
too  large  for  her  finger,  dropped  off,  and  rolled  away  and  passed 
out  of  sight. 

The  ceremony  ended,  and  the  ring  was  sought  for;  but  could 
not  be  found  then :  and,  I  may  as  well  tell  you  now,  it  has  not 
been  found  yet. 

Seeing  at  length  that  their  search  was  quite  fruitless,  the 
gentlemen  of  the  bridal  train  reluctantly  gave  up  the  ring 
for  lost,  and  the  whole  party  filed  into  the  chancel  to  enter 
their  names  in  the  register,  that  lay  for  this  purpose  on  the 
communion  table. 

The  bridegroom  first  approached  and  wrote  his.  It  was  a 
prolonged  and  sonorous  roll  of  names,  such  as  frequently  com- 
pose the  tail  of  a  nobleman's  title: 

Malcolm — Victor — Stuart> — Douglass — Gordon — Dugald,  Vis- 
count Vincent. 

Then  the  bride  signed  hers,  and  the  witnesses  theirs. 

When  Mr.  Brudenell  came  to  sign  his  own  name  as  one  of 
the  witnesses,  he  happened  to  glance  at  the  bridegroom's  long 
train  of  names.  He  read  them  over  with  a  smile  at  their  length, 
but  his  eye  fastened  upon  the  last  one — "  Dugald,"  "  Dugald  "  ? 
Herman  Enidenell,  like  the  immortal  Burton,  thought  he  had 
"  heard  that  name  before,"  in  fact,  was  sure  he  had  "  heard 
that  name  before !  "  Yes,  verily ;  he  had  heard  it  in  connec- 
tion with  his  sister's  fatal  flight,  in  which  a  certain  Captain 
Dugald  had  been  her  companion!  And  he  resolved  to  make 
cautious  inquiries  of  the  viscount.    He  had  known  Lord  Vin- 


536  ishmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

cent  on  tlie  Continent,  but  be  had  either  never  happened  to 
hear  what  his  family  name  was,  or  if  he  had  chanced  to  do  so, 
he  had  forgotten  the  circumstances.  At  all  events,  it  was  not 
until  the  instant  in  which  he  read  the  viscount's  signature  in 
the  register  that  he  discovered  the  family  name  of  Lord  Vin- 
cent and  the  disreputable  name  of  Eleanor  Brudenell's  un- 
principled lover  to  be  the  same. 

But  this  was  no  time  for  brooding  over  the  subject.  He  aflfixed 
his  own  signature,  which  was  the  last  one  on  the  list,  and  then 
joined  the  bridal  party,  who  were  now  leaving  the  church. 

At  the  door  a  signal  change  took  place  in  the  order  of  the 
procession. 

Lord  Vincent,  with  a  courtesy  as  earnest  and  a  smile  as 
beaming  as  gallantry  and  the  occasion  recjuired,  handed  his 
bride  into  his  own  carriage. 

Judge  Merlin,  Ishmael,  and  Beatrice  rode  together. 

And  others  returned  in  the  order  in  which  they  had  come. 

Ishmael  was  coming  out  of  that  strange,  benumbed  state 
that  had  deadened  for  a  while  all  his  sense  of  suffering — coming 
back  to  a  consciousness  of  utter  bereavement  and  insupportable 
anguish — anguish  written  in  such  awful  characters  upon  his 
pallid  and  writhen  brow  that  Beatrice  and  her  uncle  exchanged 
glances  of  wonder  and  alarm. 

But  Ishmael,  in  his  fixed  agony,  did  not  perceive  the  looks 
of  anxiety  they  turned  towards  him — did  not  even  perceive 
the  passage  of  time  or  space,  until  they  arrived  at  home  again, 
and  the  wedding  guests  once  more  began  to  alight  from  the 
carriages. 

The  party  temporarily  separated  in  the  hall,  the  ladies  dis- 
persing each  to  her  ovsn  chamber  to  make  some  trifling  change 
in  her  toilet  before  appearing  in  the  drawing  room. 

"  Ishmael,  come  here,  my  lad,"  said  the  judge,  as  soon  as  they 
were  left  alone. 

Ishmael  mechanically  followed  him  to  the  little  breakfast 
parlor  of  the  family,  where  on  the  sideboard  sat  decanters  of 
brandy  and  wine,  and  pitchers  of  water,  and  glasses  of  all 
shapes  and  sizes. 

He  poured  out  two  glasses  of  brandy — one  for  himself  and 
one  for  Ishmael. 

"  Let  us  drink  the  health  of  the  newly-married  couple,"  he 
said,  pushing  one  glass  towards  Ishmael,  and  raising  the  other 
to  his  own  lips. 


THE    MAEKIAGE    MORNING.  537 

But  Ishmael  hesitated,  and  poured  out  a  tumbler  of  pure 
water,  saying,  in  a  faint  voice: 

"  I  will  drink  her  health  in  this." 

"  Nonsense !  put  it  down.  You  are  chilled  enough  without 
drinking  that  to  throw  you  into  an  ague.  Drink  something 
warm  and  strong,  boy !  drink  something  warm  and  strong. 
I  tell  you,  I,  for  one,  cannot  get  through  this  day  without  some 
such  support  as  this,"  said  the  judge  authoritatively,  as  he  took 
from  the  young  man's  nerveless  hand  the  harmless  glass  of 
water,  and  put  into  it  the  perilous  glass  of  brandy. 

For  ah!  good  men  do  wicked  things  sometimes,  and  wise 
men  foolish  ones. 

Still  Ishmael  hesitated;  for  even  in  the  midst  of  his  great 
trouble  he  heard  the  "  still,  small  voice  "  of  some  good  angel — 
it  might  have  been  his  mother's  spirit — whispering  him  to 
dash  from  his  lips  the  Circean  draught,  that  would  indeed 
allay  his  sense  of  suffering  for  a  few  minutes,  but  might  endan- 
ger his  character  through  all  his  life  and  his  soul  through  all 
eternity.  The  voice  that  whispered  this,  as  I  said,  was  a  "  still, 
small  voice  "  speaking  softly  within  him.  But  the  voice  of  the 
judge  was  bluff  and  hearty,  and  he  stood  there,  a  visible  pres- 
ence, enforcing  his  advice  with  strength  of  action. 

And  Ishmael,  scarcely  well  assured  of  what  he  did,  put  the 
glass  k)  his  lips  and  quaffed  the  contents,  and  felt  at  once 
falsely  exhilarated. 

"  Come,  now,  we  will  go  into  the  drawing  room.  I  dare  say 
they  are  all  down  by  this  time,"  said  the  judge.  And  in  they 
•went. 

He  was  right  in  his  conjecture;  the  wedding  guests  were  all 
•assembled  there. 

And  soon  after  his  entrance  the  sliding  doors  between  the 
drawing  room  and  the  dining  room  were  pushed  back,  and  Devi- 
zac,  who  was  the  presiding  genius  of  the  wedding  feast,  ap- 
peared and  announced  that  breakfast  was  served. 

The  company  filed  in — the  bride  and  bridegroom  walking 
together,  and  followed  by  the  bridesmaids  and  the  gentlemen 
•of  the  party. 

Ishmael  gave  his  arm  to  Beatrice.  Mr.  Brudenell  conducted 
Mrs.  Middleton,  and  the  judge  led  one  of  the  lady  guests. 

The  scene  they  entered  upon  was  one  of  splendor,  beauty, 
and  luxury,  never  surpassed  even  by  the  great  Vourienne  and 
Devizac  themselves  \  Painting,  gilding,  and  flowers  had  not  be^a 


538  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  EN   THE   DEPTHS. 

spared.  The  walls  were  covered  with  frescoes  of  Venus,  Psyche, 
Cupid,  the  Graces,  and  the  Muses,  seen  among  1iie  rosy  bowers 
and  shady  groves  of  Arcadia.  The  ceiling  was  covered  with 
celestial  scenery,  in  the  midst  of  which  was  seen  the  cloudy 
court  of  Jupiter  and  Juno  and  their  attendant  gods  and  god- 
desses; the  piUars  were  covered  with  gilding  and  twined  with 
flowers,  and  long  wreaths  of  flowers  connected  one  pillar  with 
another  and  festooned  the  doorways  and  windows  and  the  cor- 
ners of  the  room. 

The  breakfast  table  was  a  marvel  of  art — blazing  with  gold 
plate,  blooming  with  beautiful  and  fragrant  exotics,  and  in- 
toxicating with  the  aroma  of  the  richest  and  rarest  viands. 

At  the  upper  end  of  the  room  a  temporary  raised  and  gilded 
balcony  wreathed  with  roses  was  occupied  by  Dureezie's  cele- 
brated band,  who,  as  the  company  came  in,  struck  up  an  inspir- 
ing bridal  march  composed  expressly  for  this  occasion. 

The  wedding  party  took  their  seats  at  the  table  and  the  feast- 
ing began.  The  viands  were  carved  and  served  and  praised. 
The  bride's  cake  was  cut  and  the  slices  distributed.  The  ring 
fell  to  one  of  the  bridesmaids  and  provoked  the  usual  badinage. 
The  wine  circulated  freely. 

Mr.  Middleton  arose  and  in  a  neat  little  speech  proposed  the 
fair  bride's  health,  which  proposal  was  hailed  with  enthusiasm. 

Judge  Merlin,  in  another  little  speech,  returned  thanks  to 
the  company,  and  begged  leave  to  propose  the  bridegroom's 
health,  which  was  duly  honored. 

Then  it  was  Lord  Vincent's  turn  to  rise  and  express  his 
gratitude  and  propose  Judge  Merlin's  health. 

This  necessitated  a  second  rising  of  the  judge,  who  after  mak- 
ing due  acknowledgments  of  the  compliments  paid  him,  pro- 
posed— the  fair  bridesmaids. 

And  so  the  breakfast  proceeded. 

They  sat  at  table  an  hour,  and  then,  at  a  signal  from  Mrs. 
Middleton,  all  arose. 

The  gentlemen  adjourned  to  the  little  breakfast  parlor  ta 
drink  a  parting  glass  with  their  host  in  something  stronger 
than  the  light  French  breakfast  wines  they  had  been  quafl&ng 
so  freely. 

And  the  bride,  followed  by  all  her  attendants,  went  up  to 
her  room  to  change  her  bridal  robe  and  veil  for  her  traveling 
dreps  and  bonnet ;  as  the  pair  were  to  take  the  one  o'clock  train 
to  Baltimore  en  route  for  New  York,  Niagara,  and  the  Lakes. 


THE  MAERIAGE  MOEKING.  539 

She  found  her  dressing  room  all  restored  to  tlie  dreary  good 
order  that  spoke  of  abandonment.  Her  rich  dresses  and  jewels 
and  bridal  presents  were  all  packed  up.  And  every  trunk  was 
locked  and  corded  and  ready  for  transportation  to  the  railway 
station,  except  one  large  trunk  that  stood  open,  with  its  upper 
tray  waiting  for  the  bridal  dress  she  was  about  to  put  off. 

Euth,  who  had  been  very  busy  with  all  this  packing,  while 
the  wedding  party  were  at  church  and  at  breakfast,  now  stood 
with  the  browTi  silk  dress  and  mantle  that  was  to  be  Claudia's 
traveling  costume,  laid  over  her  arm. 

Claudia,  assisted  by  Mrs.  Middleton,  changed  her  dress  with 
the  feverish  haste  of  one  who  longed  to  get  a  painful  ordeal 
over;  and  while  Ruth  hastily  packed  away  the  wedding  finery 
and  closed  the  last  trunk,  Cl-audia  tied  on  her  brown  silk  bon- 
net and  drew  on  her  gloves  and  expressed  herself  ready  to  de- 
part. 

They  went  downstairs  to  the  drawing  room,  where  all  the 
wedding  guests  were  once  more  gathered  to  see  the  young  pair 
off. 

There  was  no  time  to  lose,  and  so  all  her  friends  gathered 
around  the  bride  to  receive  her  adieus  and  to  express  their 
good  wishes. 

One  by  one  she  bade  them  farewell. 

When  she  came  to  her  cousin.  Bee  burst  into  tears  and 
whispered : 

"  God  forgive  you,  poor  Claudia !  God  avert  from  you  all  evil 
consequences  of  your  own  act ! " 

She  caught  her  breath,  wrung  Bee's  hand  and  turned  away, 
and  looked  around.  She  had  taken  leave  of  all  except  her 
father  and  Ishmael. 

Her  father  she  knew  would  accompany  her  as  far  as  the  rail- 
way station,  for  he  had  said  as  much. 

But  there  was  Ishmael. 

As  she  went  up  to  him  slowly  and  fearfully,  every  vein  and 
artery  in  her  body  seemed  to  throb  with  the  agony  of  her  heart. 
She  tried  to  speak;  but  could  utter  no  articulate  sound.  She 
held  out  her  hand;  but  he  did  not  take  it;  then  she  lifted  her 
beautiful  eyes  to  his,  with  a  glance  so  helpless,  so  anguished, 
so  imploring,  as  if  silently  praying  from  him  some  kind  word 
before  she  should  go,  that  Ishmael's  generous  heart  was  melted 
and  he  took  her  hand  and  pressing  it  while  he  spoke,  said  ir 
law  and  fervent  tones: 


540  ISHMAEL  ;    OK,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

"  God  bless  you.  Lady  Vincent.  God  shield  you  from  all 
evil.    God  save  you  in  every  crisis  of  your  life." 

And  she  bowed  her  head,  lowly  and  humbly,  to  receive  this 
benediction  as  though  it  had  been  uttered  by  an  authorized 
minister  of  God. 

CHAPTER  LXVn. 
bee's  handkerchief. 

"  I  would  bend  my  spirit  o'er  you." 
"I  am  humbled,  who  was  humble  ! 
Friend!  I  bow  my  head  before  you  ! " 

— IJ.  B.  Browning, 

But  a  mist  fell  before  Ishmael's  eyes,  and  when  it  cleared 
away  Claudia  was  gone. 

The  young  bridesmaids  were  chattering  gayly  in  a  low, 
melodious  tone  with  each  other,  and  with  the  gentlemen  of  the 
party  filling  the  room  with  a  musical  hum  of  many  happy 
voices. 

But  all  this  seemed  unreal  and  dreadful,  like  the  illusions 
of  troubled  sleep.  And  so  Ishmael  left  the  drawing  room  and 
■went  up  to  the  office,  to  see  if  perhaps  he  could  find  real  life 
there. 

There  lay  the  parcels  of  papers  tied  up  with  red  tape,  the 
open  books  that  he  had  consulted  the  day  before,  and  the  letters 
that  had  come  by  the  morning's  mail. 

He  sat  down  wearily  to  the  table  and  began  to  open  his  let- 
ters. One  by  one  he  read  and  laid  them  aside.  One  important 
letter,  bearing  upon  a  case  he  had  on  hand,  he  laid  by  itself. 

Then  rising,  he  gathered  up  his  documents,  put  them  into 
his  pocket,  took  his  hat  and  gloves  and  went  to  the  City  Hall. 

This  day  of  suffering,  like  all  other  days,  was  a  day  of  duties 
also. 

It  was  now  one  o'clock,  the  hour  at  which  the  train  started 
which  carried  Claudia  away. 

It  was  also  the  hour  at  which  a  case  was  appointed  to  be 
heard  before  the  Judge  of  the  Orphan's  Court — a  case  in  which 
the  guardianship  of  certain  fatherless  and  motherless  children, 
was  disputed  between  a  grandmother  and  an  uncle,  and  in. 
which  Ishmael  was  counsel  for  the  plaintiff.  He  appeared  in. 
court,  punctually  to  the  minute,  found  his  client  waiting  for 


bee's  handkerchief.  541 

him  there,  and  as  soon  as  the  judge  had  taken  his  seat  the  young 
counsel  opened  the  case.  By  a  strong  effort  of  will  he  wrested 
his  thoughts  from  his  own  great  sorrow,  and  engaged  them  in 
the  interests  of  the  anxious  old  lady,  who  was  striving  for  the 
possession  of  her  grandchildren  only  from  the  love  she  bore 
them  and  their  mother,  her  own  dead  daughter;  while  her  oppo- 
nent wished  only  to  have  the  management  of  their  large  fortune. 

It  was  nature  that  pleaded  through  the  lips  of  the  eloquent 
young  counsel,  and  he  gained  this  case  also. 

But  he  was  ill  in  mind  and  body.  He  could  scarcely  bear 
the  thanks  and  congratulations  of  his  client  and  her  friends. 

The  old  lady  had  retained  him  by  one  large  fee,  and  now 
she  placed  another  and  a  larger  one  in  his  hands ;  but  he  could 
not  have  told  whether  the  single  banknote  was  for  five  dollars 
or  five  hundred,  as  he  mechanically  received  it  and  placed  it 
in  his  pocketbook. 

And  then,  with  the  courteous  bow  and  smile,  never  omitted, 
because  they  were  natural  and  habitual,  he  turned  and  left  the 
courtroom. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  Worth  ?  "  inquired  one  lawyer. 

"  Can't  imagine ;  he  looks  very  ill ;  shouldn't  wonder  if  La 
was  goin™  to  have  a  congestion  of  the  brain.  It  looks  like  it. 
He  works  too  hard,"  replied  another. 

Old  Wiseman,  the  law-thunderer,  who  had  been  the  counsel 
opposed  to  Ishmael  in  this  last  case,  and  who,  in  fact,  was  al- 
ways professionally  opposed  to  him,  but,  nevertheless,  personally 
friendly  towards  him,  had  also  noticed  his  pale,  haggard,  and 
distracted  looks,  and  now  hurried  after  him  in  the  fear  that  he 
should  fall  before  reaching  home. 

He  overtook  Ishmael  in  the  lobby.  The  young  man  was 
standing  leaning  on  the  balustrade  at  the  head  of  the  stairs, 
as  if  unable  to  take  another  step. 

Wiseman  bent  over  him. 

"  Worth,  my  dear  fellow,  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  Does 
it  half  kill  you  to  overthrow  me  at  law  ? " 

"I — fear  that  I  am  not  well,"  replied  Ishmael,  in  a  hollow 
voice,  and  with  a  haggard  smile. 

"What  is  it?  Only  exhaustion,  I  hope?  You  have  been 
working  too  hard,  and  you  never  even  left  the  courtroom  to 
take  any  refreshments  to-day.  You  are  too  much  in  earnest, 
my  young  friend.  You  take  too  much  pains.  You  apply  your- 
self too  closely.    Why,  bless  my  life,  you  could  floor  iia  all  any, 


542  ISHMAEL  ;    OE,  IN   THE   DEPTHS. 

day  witli  half  the  trouble!  But  you  must  always  use  a  trip- 
hammer to  drive  tin  tacks.  Take  my  arm,  and  let  us  go  and 
get  something." 

And  the  stout  lawyer  drew  the  young  man's  arm  within  his 
own  and  led  him  to  a  restaurant  that  was  kept  on  the  same 
floor  for  the  convenience  of  the  courts  and  their  officers  and 
other  habitues  of  the  City  Hall. 

Wiseman  called  for  the  best  old  Otard  brandy,  and  poured 
out  half  a  tumblerful,  and  offered  it  to  Ishmael.  It  was  a  dose 
that  might  have  been  swallowed  with  impunity  by  a  seasoned 
old  toper  like  Wiseman;  but  certainly  not  by  an  abstinent 
young  man  like  Ishmael,  who,  yielding  to  the  fatal  impulse 
to  get  rid  of  present  suffering  by  any  means,  at  any  cost,  or 
any  risk,  took  the  tumbler  and  swallowed  the  brandy. 
Ah,  Heaven  have  mercy  on  the  sorely-tried  and  tempted ! 
This  was  only  the  third  glass  of  alcoholic  stimulants  that 
Ishmael  had  ever  taken  in  the  whole  course  of  his  life. 

On  the  first  occasion,  the  day  of  Claudia's  betrothal,  the  glass 
had  been  placed  in  his  hand  and  urged  upon  his  acceptance 
by  his  honored  old  friend,  Judge  Merlin. 

On  the  second  occasion,  the  morning  of  this  day,  of  Claudia's 
marriage,  the  glass  had  also  been  offered  him  by  Judge  Merlin. 
And  on  the  third  occasion,  this  afternoon  of  the  terrible  day 
of  trial  and  suffering,  it  was  placed  to  his  lips  by  the  respecta- 
ble old  lawyer,  Wiseman. 
Alas!  alas! 

On  the  first  occasion  Ishmael  had  protested  long  before  he 
yielded;    on  the   second   he  had  hesitated   a  little  while;   but 
on  the  third  he  took  the  offered  glass  and  drank  the  brandy 
without  an  instant's  doubt  or  pause. 
Lord,  be  pitiful! 

And  oh,  Nora,  fly  down  from  heaven  on  wings  of  love  and 
■watch  over  your  son  and  save  him — from  his  friends ! — ^lest  he 
fall  into  deeper  depths  than  any  from  which  he  has  so  nobly 
struggled  forth.  For  he  is  suffering,  tempted,  and  human! 
And  there  never  lived  but  one  perfect  man,  and  he  was  the  Soa 
of  God. 

"Well?"  said  old  Wiseman  as  he  received  the  glass  from 
I^hmael's  hand  and  sat  it  down. 

"  I  thank  you ;  it  has  done  me  good ;  I  feel  much  better ;  you 
»xe  very  kind,"  said  Ishmael, 

"I  wish  you  would  really  think  so,  and  go  into  partnership 


bee's  handkerchief.  543 

witli  me.  My  business  is  very  heavy — much  more  than  I  can 
manage  alone,  now  that  I  am  growing  old  and  stout;  and  I 
must  have  somebody,  and  I  would  rather  have  you  than  anyone 
else.  You  would  succeed  to  the  whole  business  after  my  death, 
you  know." 

"  Thank  you ;  your  offer  is  very  flattering-  I  will  think  it 
over,  and  talk  with  you  on  some  future  occasion.  Now  I  feel 
that  I  must  return  home,  while  I  have  strength  to  do  so,"  re- 
plied Ishmael. 

"  Very  well,  then,  my  dear  fellow,  I  will  let  you  off." 

And  they  shook  hands  and  parted. 

Ishmael,  feeling  soothed,  strengthened,  and  exhilarated,  set 
off  to  walk  home.  But  this  feeling  gradually  passed  off,  giving 
place  to  a  weakness,  heaviness,  and  feverishness,  that  warned 
him  he  was  in  no  state  to  appear  at  judge  Merlin's  dinner 
itable. 

So  when  he  approached  the  house  he  opened  a  little  side 
gate  leading  into  the  back  grounds,  and  strayed  into  the  shrub- 
bery, feeling  every  minute  more  feverish,  heavy,  and  drowsy. 

At  last  he  strayed  into  an  arbor,  quite  at  the  bottom  of  the 
shrubberies,  where  he  sank  down  upon  the  circular  bench  and 
fell  into  a  deep  sleep. 

Meanwhile  up  at  the  house  changes  had  taken  place.  The 
■wedding  guests  had  all  departed.  The  festive  garments  had 
had  been  laid  away.  The  decorated  dining  room  had  been  shut 
up.  The  household  had  returned  to  its  usual  sober  aspect, 
and  the  plain  family  dinner  was  laid  in  the  little  breakfast 
parlor.  But  the  house  was  very  sad  and  silent  and  lonely  be- 
cause its  queen  was  gone.  At  the  usual  dinner-hour,  six 
o'clock,  the  family  assembled  at  the  table. 

"  Where  is  Ishmael,  uncle  ? "  inquired  Beatrice. 

"  I  do  not  know,  my  dear,"  replied  the  judge,  whose  heart 
^vas  sore  with  the  wrench  that  had  torn  his  daughter  from  him. 

"  Do  you,  papa  ? " 

«No,  dear." 

*' Mamma,  have  you  seen  Ishmael  since  the  morning?" 

"No,  child." 

** Nor  you,  Walter?" 

"Nor  I,  Bee." 

Mr.  Brudenell  looked  up  at  the  fair  young  creature,  who 
itook  such  thought  of  his  absent  son,  and  volunteered  to  say: 

"  He  had  a  case  before  the  Orphans'  Court  to-day,  I  believe* 


544  ISIIJIAEL  ;    OR,  IX   TIIE   DEPTHS. 

But  the  court  is  adjourned,  I  know,  because  I  met  tlie  judge 
an  hour  ago  at  the  Capitol;  so  I  suppose  he  will  be  here 
soon." 

Bee  bowed  in  acknowledgment  of  this  information,  but  she 
did  not  feel  at  all  reassured.  She  had  noticed  Ishmael's  dread- 
ful pallor  that  morning ;  she  felt  how  much  he  suffered,  and  she 
feared  some  evil  consequences;  though  her  worst  suspicions 
never  touched  the  truth. 

"  Uncle,"  she  said,  blushing  deeply  to  be  obliged  still  to  be- 
tray her  interest  in  one  whom  she  was  forced  to  remember, 
because  everyone  else  forgot  him,  "  uncle,  had  we  not  better 
send  Powers  up  to  Ishmael's  room  to  see  if  he  has  come  in,  and 
let  him  know  that  dinner  is  on  the  table  ? " 

"  Certainly,  my  dear ;  go.  Powers,  and  if  Mr.  Worth  is  in 
his  room,  let  him  know  that  dinner  is  ready." 

Powers  went,  but  soon  returned  with  the  information  that 
Mr.  Worth  was  neither  in  his  room  nor  in  the  office,  nor  any- 
■W'here  else  in  the  house. 

"  Some  professional  business  has  detained  him ;  he  will  be 
home  after  a  while,"  said  the  judge. 

But  Bee  was  anxious,  and  when  dinner  was  over  she  went 
upstairs  to  a  window  that  overlooked  the  Avenue,  and  watched; 
but,  of  course,  in  vain.  Then  with  the  restlessness  common  to 
intense  anxiety  she  came  down  and  went  into  the  shrubbery  to 
"walk.  She  paced  about  very  uneasily  until  she  had  tired  her- 
self, and  then  turned  towards  a  secluded  arbor  at  the  bottom  of 
the  grounds  to  rest  herself.  She  put  aside  the  vines  that  over- 
hung the  doorway  and  entered. 

What  did  she  see? 

Ishmael  extended  upon  the  bench,  with  the  late  afternoon  sun 
streaming  through  a  crevice  in  the  arbor,  shining  full  upon, 
his  face,  which  was  also  plagued  with  flies ! 

She  had  found  him  then,  but  how? 

At  first  she  thought  he  was  only  sleeping;  and  she  was 
about  to  withdraw  from  the  arbor  when  the  sound  of  his 
"breathing  caught  her  ear  and  alarmed  her,  and  she  crept  back 
and  cautiously  approached  and  looked  over  him. 

His  face  was  deeply  flushed;  the  veins  of  his  temples  were 
swollen;  and  his  breathing  was  heavy  and  labored.  In  her 
fright  Bee  .caught  up  his  hand  and  felt  his  pulse.  It  was  full, 
hard,  and  slowly  throbbing.  She  thought  that  he  was  very  ill 
• — dangerously  ill,  and  she  was  about  to  spring  up  and  rush  to 


bee's  handkerchief.  545 

the  house  for  help,  when,  in  raising  her  head,  she  happened  to 
catch  his  breath. 

And  all  the  dreadful  truth  burst  upon  Bee's  mind,  and  over- 
whelmed her  with  mortification  and  despair ! 

With  a  sudden  gasp  and  a  low  wail  she  sank  on  her  knees  at 
his  side  and  dropped  her  head  in  her  open  hands  and  sobbed 
aloud. 

"  Oh,  Ishmael,  Ishmael,  is  it  so  v  Have  I  lived  to  see  you 
thus?  Can  a  woman  reduce  a  man  to  this?  A  proud  and 
selfish  woman  have  such  power  so  to  mar  God's  noblest  work?' 
Oh,  Ishmael,  my  love,  my  love!  I  love  you  better  than  I  love 
all  the  world  besides !  And  I  love  you  better  than  anyone  else- 
ever  did  or  ever  can;  yet,  yet,  I  would  rather  see  you  stark 
dead  before  me  than  to  see  you  thus!  Oh,  Heaven!  Oh, 
Saviour!  Oh,  Father  of  Mercies,  have  pity  on  him  and  save 
him !  "  she  cried. 

And  she  wrung  her  hands  and  bent  her  head  to  look  at  him 
more  closely,  and  her  large  tears  dropped  upon  his  face. 

He  stirred,  opened  his  eyes,  rolled  them  heavily,  became  half 
conscious  of  someone  weeping  over  him,  turned  clumsily  and 
relapsed  into  insensibility. 

At  his  first  motion  Bee  had  sprung  up  and  fled  from  the  arbor,, 
at  the  door  of  which  she  stood,  with  throbbing  heart,  watching 
him,  through  the  vines.  She  saw  that  he  had  again  fallen 
into  that  deep  and  comatose  sleep.  And  she  saw  that  hi& 
flushed  and  fevered  face  was  more  than  ever  exposed  to  the 
rays  of  the  sun  and  the  plague  of  the  flies.  And  she  crept  cau- 
tiously back  again,  and  drew  her  handkerchief  from  her  pocket, 
and  laid  it  over  his  face,  and  turned  and  hurried,  broken- 
spirited  from  the  spot. 

She  gained  her  own  room  and  threw  herself  into  her  chair 
in  a  passion  of  tears  and  sobs. 

Nothing  that  had  ever  happened  in  all  her  young  life  had 
ever  grieved  her  anything  like  this.  She  had  loved  Ishmael 
with  all  her  heart,  and  she  knew  that  Ishmael  loved  Claudia 
with  all  of  his ;  but  the  knowledge  of  this  fact  had  never  brought 
to  her  the  bitter  sorrow  that  the  sight  of  Ishmael's  condition 
had  smitten  her  with  this  afternoon.  For  there  was  scarcely 
purer  love  among  the  angels  in  heaven  than  was  that  of  Bea- 
trice for  Ishmael.  First  of  all  she  desired  his  good;  next  hi» 
affection;  next  his  presence;  but  there  was  scarcely  selfishness 
enough  in  Bee's  nature  to  wish  to  possess  him  all  for  her  own. 


546      ishmael;  oe,  i:n"  the  depths. 

First  his  good!  And  here,  weeping,  sobbing,  and  praying 
by  turns,  she  resolved  to  devote  herself  to  that  object;  to  do  all 
that  she  possibly  could  to  shield  him  from  the  suspicion  of  this 
night's  event;  and  to  save  him  from  falling  into  a  similar  mis- 
fortune. 

She  remained  in  her  own  room  until  tea-time,  and  then 
bathed  her  eyes,  and  smoothed  her  hair,  and  went  down  to  join 
the  family  at  the  table. 

"  Well,  Bee,"  said  the  judge,  "  have  you  found  Ishmael  yet  ?  " 

Bee  hesitated,  blushed,  reflected  a  moment,  and  then  an- 
swered : 

"Yes,  uncle;  he  is  sleeping;  he  is  not  well;  and  I  would  not 
have  him  disturbed  if  I  were  you;  for  sleep  will  do  him  more 
good  than  anything  else." 

"  Certainly.  Why,  Bee,  did  you  ever  know  me  to  have  any- 
body waked  up  in  the  whole  course  of  my  life?  Powers,  and 
the  rest  of  you,  hark  ye :  Let  no  one  call  Mr.  Worth.  Let  him 
sleep  until  the  last  trump  sounds,  or  until  he  wakes  up  of  his 
own  accord ! " 

Powers  bowed,  and  said  he  would  see  the  order  observed. 

Soon  after  tea  was  over,  the  family,  fatigued  with  the  day's 
excitement,  retired  to  bed. 

Bee  went  up  to  her  room  in  the  back  attic ;  but  she  did  not  go 
to  bed,  or  even  undress,  for  she  knew  that  Ishmael  was  locked 
out;  and  so  she  threw  a  light  shawl  around  her,  and  seated 
herself  at  the  open  back  window,  which  from  its  high  point 
of  view  commanded  every  nook  and  cranny  of  the  back  grounds, 
to  watch  until  Ishmael  should  wake  up  and  approach  the  house, 
so  that  she  might  go  down  and  admit  him  quietly,  without 
disturbing  the  servants  and  exciting  their  curiosity  and  con- 
jectures. No  one  should  know  of  Ishmael's  misfortune,  for 
she  would  not  call  it  fault,  if  any  vigilance  of  hers  could  shield 
him.  All  through  the  still  evening,  all  through  the  deep  mid- 
night, Bee  sat  and  watched. 

When  Ishmael  had  fallen  asleep,  the  sun  was  still  high  above 
the  Western  horizon ;  but  when  he  awoke  the  stars  were  shining. 

He  raised  himself  to  a  sitting  posture,  and  looked  around  him, 
utterly  bewildered  and  unable  to  collect  his  scattered  faculties, 
or  to  remember  where  he  was,  or  how  he  came  there,  or  what  had 
occurred,  or  who  he  himself  really  was — so  deathlike  had  been 
his  sleep. 

He  had  no  headache;  his  previous  habits  had  been  too  regu- 


bee's    HAN-DKEECniEF.  547 

lar,  his  blood  was  too  pure,  and  the  brandy  was  too  good  for 
that.  He  was  simply  bewildered,  but  utterly  bewildered,  as 
though  he  had  waked  up  in  another  world. 

He  was  conscious  of  a  weight  upon  his  heart,  but  could  not 
remember  the  cause  of  it;  and  whether  it  was  grief  or  remorse, 
or  both,  he  could  not  tell.    He  feared  that  it  was  both. 

Gradually  memory  and  misery  returned  to  him ;  the  dreadful 
day;  the  marriage;  the  feast;  the  parting;  the  lawsuit;  the 
two  glasses  of  brandy,  and  their  mortifying  consequences. 
All  the  events  of  that  day  lay  clearly  before  him  now — that 
horrible  day  begun  in  unutterable  sorrow,  and  ended  in  hu- 
miliating sin ! 

Was  it  himself,  Ishmael  Worth,  who  had  suffered  this  sorrow, 
yielded  to  this  temptation,  and  fallen  into  this  sin?  To  what 
had  his  inordinate  earthly  affections  brought  him?  He  was  no 
longer  "  the  chevalier  without  fear  and  without  reproach."  He 
had  fallen,  fallen,  fallen! 

He  remembered  that  when  he  had  sunk  to  sleep  the  sun  was 
shining  and  smiling  all  over  the  beautiful  garden,  and  that 
even  in  his  half-drowsy  state  he  had  noticed  its  glory.  The 
sun  was  gone  now.  It  had  set  upon  his  humiliating  weakness. 
The  day  had  given  up  the  record  of  his  sin  and  passed  away 
forever.  The  day  would  return  no  more  to  reproach  him,  but 
its  record  would  meet  him  in  the  judgment. 

He  remembered  that  once  in  his  deep  sleep  he  had  half 
awakened  and  found  what  seemed  a  weeping  angel  bending  over 
him,  and  that  he  had  tried  to  rouse  himself  to  speak;  but  in; 
the  effort  he  had  only  turned  over  and  tumbled  into  a  deeper 
oblivion  than  ever. 

Who  was  that  pitying  angel  visitant? 

The  answer  came  like  a  shock  of  electricity.  It  was  Bee! 
Who  else  should  it  have  been?  It  was  Bee!  She  had  sought 
him  out  when  he  was  lost;  she  had  found  him  in  his  weakness; 
she  had  dropped  tears  of  love  and  sorrow  over  him. 

At  that  thought  new  shame,  new  grief,  new  remorse  swept' 
in  upon  his  soul. 

He  sprang  upon  his  feet,  and  in  doing  so  dropped  a  little 
white  drift  upon  the  ground.     He  stooped  and  picked  it  up. 

It  was  the  fine  white  handkerchief  that  on  first  waking  up 
he  had  plucked  from  his  face.  And  he  knew  by  its  soft  thia 
feeling  and  its  delicate  scent  of  violets.  Bee's  favorite  perfume, 
that  it  was  her  handkerchief,  and  she  had  spread  it  as  a  veil 


548  ishmael;  or,  in  the  depths. 

over  his  exposed  and  feverish  face.  That  little  wisp  of  cam- 
bric was  redolent  of  Bee!  of  her  presence,  her  purity,  her 
tenderness. 

It  seemed  a  mere  trifle;  but  it  touched  the  deepest  springs 
of  his  heart,  and,  holding  it  in  both  his  hands,  he  bowed  his 
humbled  head  upon  it  and  wept. 

When  a  man  like  Ishmael  weeps  it  is  no  gentle  summer 
shower,  I  assure  you;  but  as  the  breaking  up  of  great  foun- 
tains, the  rushing  of  mighty  torrents,  the  coming  of  a  flood. 

He  wept  long  and  convulsively.  And  his  deluge  of  tears  re- 
lieved his  surcharged  heart  and  brain  and  did  him  good.  He 
breathed  more  freely ;  he  wiped  his  face  with  this  dear  handker- 
chief, and  then,  all  dripping  wet  with  tears  as  it  was,  he 
pressed  it  to  his  lips  and  placed  it  in  his  bosom,  over  his  heart, 
and  registered  a  solemn  vow  in  Heaven  that  this  first  fault 
of  his  life  should  also,  with  God's  help,  be  his  last. 

Then  he  walked  forth  into  the  starlit  garden,  murmuring 
to  himself: 

"By  a  woman  came  sin  and  death  into  the  world,  and  by 
a  woman  came  redemption  and  salvation.  Oh,  Claudia,  my 
Eve,  farewell !  farewell !    And  Bee,  my  Mary,  hail !  " 

The  holy  stars  no  longer  looked  down  reproachfully  upon 
him;  the  harmless  little  insect-choristers  no  longer  mocked 
him;  love  and  forgiveness  beamed  down  from  the  pure  light 
of  the  first,  and  cheering  hope  sounded  in  the  gleeful  songs 
of  the  last. 

Ishmael  walked  up  the  gravel-walk  between  the  shrubbery 
and  the  house.  Once,  when  his  face  was  towards  the  house,  he 
looked  up  at  Bee's  back  window.  It  was  open,  and  he  saw  a 
white,  shadowy  figure  just  within  it. 

Was  it  Bee  ? 

His  heart  assured  him  that  it  was;  and  that  anxiety  for 
iim  had  kept  her  there  awake  and  watching. 

As  he  drew  near  the  house,  quite  uncertain  as  to  how  he  should 
get  in,  he  saw  that  the  shadowy,  white  figure  disappeared  from 
the  window ;  and  when  he  went  up  to  the  back  door,  with  the  in- 
tention of  rapping  loudly  until  he  should  wake  up  the  servants 
and  gain  admission,  his  purpose  was  forestalled  by  the  door 
being  softly  opened  by  Bee,  who  stood  with  a  shaded  taper 
behind  it. 

«0h.  Bee!" 

"Oh,  Ishmael!" 


bee's  hakdkeechief.  549 

Both  spoke  at  once,  and  in  a  tone  of  irrepressible  emotion. 

"  Come  in,  Ishmael,"  she  next  said  kindly. 

"  You  know,  Bee  ? "  he  asked  sadly,  as  he  entered. 

"Yes,  Ishmael!  Forgive  me  for  knowing,  for  it  prevented 
others  finding  out.  And  your  secret  could  not  rest  safer,  or 
with  a  truer  heart  than  mine." 

"  I  know  it,  dear  Bee !  dear  sister,  I  know  it.  And  Bee,  lis- 
ten! That  glass  of  brandy  was  only  the  third  of  any  sort  of 
spirituous  liquor  that  I  ever  tasted  in  my  life.  And  I  solemnly 
swear  in  the  presence  of  Heaven  and  before  you  that  it  shall 
be  the  very  last!  Never,  no,  never,  even  as  a  medicine,  will  I 
place  the  fatal  poison  to  my  lips  again." 

"  I  believe  you,  Ishmael.  And  I  am  very  happy.  Thank 
God !  "  she  said,  giving  him  her  hand. 

"Dear  Bee!  Holy  angel!  I  am  scarcely  worthy  to  touch 
It,"  he  said,  bowing  reverently  over  that  little  white  hand. 

" '  There  shall  be  more  joy  in  heaven  over  one  sinner  that 
repenteth,  than  over  ninety  and  nine  just  persons  who  need 
no  repentance.'  Good-night,  Ishmael ! "  said  Bee  sweetly,  as 
she  put  the  taper  in  his  hand  and  glided  like  a  spirit  from  his 
presence. 

She  was  soon  sleeping  beside  her  baby  sister. 

And  Ishmael  went  upstairs  to  bed.  And  the  troubled  night 
closed  in  peace. 

The  further  career  of  Ishmael,  together  with  the  after  fate 
of  all  the  characters  mentioned  in  this  work,  will  be  found 
in  the  sequel  to  and  final  conclusion  of  this  volume,  entitled, 
"  Self -Raised;  or^  From  the  Depths." 


TEE  END* 


NEW  POPULAR  EDITIONS  OF 

MARY  JOHNSTON'S 
NOVELS 

TO  HAVE  AND  TO  HOLD 

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Agnes  Repplier. 

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McCutcheon. 

A  clever,  fascinating  tale,  with  a  striking  and  un- 
usual plot.  With  illustrations  from  the  original  New 
York  production  of  the  piay. 

THE  LITTLE  MINISTER :     By  J.  M.  Barrie. 

With  illustrations  from  the  play  as  presented  by 
Maude  Adams,  and  a  vignette  in  gold  of  Miss  Adams 
on  the  cover. 

CHECKERS  :    By  Henry  M.  Blossom,  Jr. 

A  story  of  the  Race  Track.  Illustrated  with  scenes 
from  the  play  as  originally  presented  in  New  York 
by  Thomas  W.  Ross^who  created  the  stage  character. 

THE  CHRISTIAN :     By  Hall  Caine. 
THE  ETERNAL  CITY :     By  Hall  Caine. 

Each  has  been  elaborately  and  successfully  staged 

IN  THE  PALACE  OF  THE  KING:    By  F.  Marion 
Crawford. 
A  love  story  of  Old  Madrid,  with  full  page  illustra- 
tions.    Originally  played  with  great  success  by  Viola 
Allen. 

JANICE  MEREDITH :    By  Paul  Leicester  Ford. 

New  edition  with  an  especially  attractive  cover, 
a  really  handsome  book.  Originally  played  by  Mary 
Mannering,  who  created  the  title  role. 

These  books  are  handsomely  bound  in  cloth,  are 
well-made  in  every  respect,  and  aside  from  their  un- 
usual merit  as  stories,  are  particularly  interesting  to 
those  who  like  things  theatrical.  Price,  postpaid, 
seventy-five  cents  each. 

GROSSET    &    DUNLAP,    Publishebs 
'    52  DUANE  STREET  ::  NEW  YORK 


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EDITIONS  OF  POPULAR  NOVELS  THAT 

HAVE  BEEN  DRAMATIZED. 


MISTRESS  NELL,AMerryTaleofa 
Merry  Time.  (Twixt_Fact  and  Fancy.)  By  George 
Hazelton. 

A  dainty,  handsome  volume,  beautifully  printed 
on  fine  laid  paper  and  bound  in  extra  vellum 
cloth.  A  charming  story,  the  dramatic  version 
of  which,  as  produced  by  Henrietta  Crosman, 
was  one  of  the  conspicuous  stage  successes  of 
recent  years.  With  a  rare  portrait  of  Nell  Gwyn 
in  duotone,  from  an  engraving  of  the  painting  by 
Sir  Peter  Lely,  as  a  frontispiece. 

BY  RIGHT  OF  SWORD, 

By  Arthur  W.  Marchmont. 

With  full  page  illustrations,  by  Powell  Chase. 
This  clever  and  fascinating  tale  has  had  a  large 
sale  and  seems  as  popular  to-day  as  when  first 
published.  It  is  full  of  action  and  incident  and 
will  arouse  the  keen  interest  of  the  reader  at  the 
very  start.  The  dramatic  version  was  very  suc- 
cessfully produced  during  several  seasons  by 
Ralph  Stuart. 

These  books  are  handsomely  bound  in  cloth, 
are  well  made  in  every  respect,  and  aside  from 
their  unusual  merit  as  stories,  are  particularly  in- 
teresting to  those  who  like  things  theatrical. 
Price,  postpaid,  seventy-five  cents  each. 


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EDITIONS  OF  POPULAR  NOVELS  THAT 

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CAPE  COD  FOLKS:   By  Sarah  P.  McLean  Greene. 

Illustrated  with  scenes  from  the  play,  as  originally 
produced  at  the  Boston  Theatre. 

IF  I  WERE  KING  :     By  Justin  Huntly  McCarthy. 

Illustrations  from  the  play,  as  produced  by  E.  H. 
Sothem. 

DOROTHY  VERNON  OF  HADDON    HALL: 
By  Charles  Major. 

The  Bertha  Galland  Edition,  with  illustrations  from 
the  play.  ^ 

WHEN   KNIGHTHOOD  WAS    IN    FLOWER: 

By  Charles  Major. 

Illustrated  with  scenes  from  the  remarkably  suc- 
cessful play,  as  presented  by  Julia  Marlowe. 

THE  VIRGINIAN  :     By  Owen  Wister. 

With  full  page  illustrations  by  A.  I.  Keller. 
Dustin  Farnum  has  made  the  play  famous  by  his 
creation  of  the  title  role. 

THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX:'_By  Harold  MacGrath. 

Illustrated  with  scenes  from  the  play,  as  originally 
produced  in  New  York,  by  Henry  E.  Dixey.  A  piquant, 
charming  story,  and  the  author's  greatest  success. 

These  books  are  handsomely  bound  in  cloth,  are 
well-made  in  every  respect,  and  aside  from  their  un- 
usual merit  as  stories,  are  particularly  interesting  to 
those  who  like  things  theatrical.  Price,  postpaid, 
seventy-five  cents  each. 


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liz  DUANE  STREET  ::  NEW  YORK 


HERETOFORE  PUBLISHED  AT  $1.50 

BOOKS  BY  JACK  LONDON 

12  MO.,  Cloth,  75  Cents  Each,  Postpaid 
THE  CALL  OF  THE  WILD  : 

With  illustrations  by  Philip  R.  Goodwin  and  Charles  Living- 
ston Bull.  Decorated  by  Charles  Edward  Hooper. 
"A  big  story  in  sober  English,  and  with  thorough  art  in  the 
construction  .  .  .  a  wonderfully  perfect  bit  of  work.  The  dog 
adventures  are  as  exciting  as  any  man's  exploits  could  be,  and 
Mr.  London's  workmanship  is  wholly  satisfying." — TJieNevh 
York  Sun. 

THE  SEA  WOLF  :     Illustrated  by  W.  J.  Aylward. 

*'  This  story  surely  has  the  pure  Stevenson  ring,  the  adven- 
turous glamour,  the  vertebrate  stoicism.  'Tis  surely  the  story 
of  the  making  of  a  man,  the  sculptor  being  Captain  Larsen, 
and  the  clay,  the  ease-loving,  well-to-do,  half-drowned  man, 
to  all  appearances  his  helpless  prey." — Critic. 

THE  PEOPLE  OF  THE  ABYSS : 

A  vivid  and  intensely  interesting  picture  of  life,  as  the  au- 
thor found  it,  in  the  slums  of  London.  Not  a  survey  of  im- 
pressions formed  on  a  slumming  tour,  but  a  most  graphic  ac- 
count of  real  life  from  one  who  succeeded  in  getting  on  the 
"inside."  More  absorbing  than  a  novel.  A  great  and  vital 
book.     Profusely  illustrated  from  photographs. 

THE  SON  OF  THE  WOLF : 

"  Even  the  most  listless  reader  will  be  stirred  by  the  virile 
force,  the  strong,  sweeping  strokes  with  which  the  pictures  of 
the  northern  wilds  and  the  life  therein  are  painted,  and  the  in- 
sight given  into  the  soul  of  the  primitive  of  nature." — Plain 
Dealer,  Cleveland. 

A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SNOWS  : 

It  is  a  book  about  a  woman,  whose  personality  and  plan  in 
the  story  are  likely  to  win  for  her  a  host  of  admirers.  The 
story  has  the  rapid  movement,  incident  and  romantic  flavor 
which  have  interested  so  many  in  his  tales.  The  illustrations 
are  by  F.  C=  Yohn. 

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THE  JUNGLE,  By  Upton  Sinclair  : 

A  book  that  startled  the  world  and  caused  two  hemi- 
spheres to  sit  up  and  think.  Intense  in  interest,  the 
dramatic  situations  portrayed  enthrall  the  reader,  while 
its  evident  realism  and  truth  to  life  and  conditions  have 
gained  for  it  the  title  of  "  The  '  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin '  of 
the  Twentieth  Century." 

"  I  should  be  afraid  to  trust  myself  to  tell  how  it  affects 
me.  It  is  a  great  work  ;  so  simple,  so  true,  so  tragic,  so 
human." — David  Grahatn  Phillips. 

Cloth,  12  mo.     Price,  seventy -five  cents,  postpaid. 

NEW   POPULAR   PRICED  EDITIONS  OF  IM- 

PORTANT   BOOKS  ON  SOCIAL  AND 

POLITICAL    ECONOMY. 


BENJAMIN  KIDD, 

SOCIAL   EVOLUTION, 

PRINCIPLES   OF   WESTERN   CIVILISATION. 

Two  volumes  of  special  interest  and  importance,  ia 
view  of  the  social  unrest  of  the  present  time. 

HENRY  GEORGE,  Jr. 

THE   MENACE   OF  PRIVILEGE. 

A  Study  of  the  dangers  to  the  Republic  from  the  exist- 
ence of  a  favored  class. 
ROBERT  HUNTER, 

POVERTY. 

An  exhaustive  study  of  present  day  conditions  among 
the  poorer  classes. 
JAMES  BRYCE, 

SOCIAL   INSTITUTIONS   OF  THE   UNITED   STATES.  _ 

The  author's  recent  appointment  as  the  representative 
of  the  British  Empire  at  Washington  will  lend  additional 
interest  to  this  timely  and  important  work. 

RICHARD  T.  ELY, 

MONOPOLIES   AND   TRUSTS. 

A  masterly  presentation  of  the  Trust  Problem,  by  a 
most  eminent  authority. 

Price,  seventy-five  cents  each,  postpaid. 


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OF  GARDEN  BOOKS. 
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GARDEN  MAKING,  by  Professor  L.  H.  Bailey, 
Professor  of  Horticulture,  Cornell  University. 
Suggestions    for    the    Utilizing    of    Home 
Grounds.      12  mo.,  cloth,  250  illustrations. 
Here  is  a  book  literally  "for  the  million "  who  in  broad 
America  have  some  love  for  growing  things.    It  is  useful  alike 
to  the  owner  of  a  suburban  garden  plot  and  to  the  owner  of  a 
"  little  place  "  in  the  country.     Written  by  the  Professor  of 
Horticulture  at  Cornell  University  it  tells  of  ornamental  gar- 
dening of  any  range,  treats  of  fruits  and  vegetables  for  home 
•use,  and  cannot  fail  to  instruct,  inspire  and  educate  the  reader. 

THE  PRACTICAL  GARDEN  BOOK,  by  C.  E. 
HuNN  AND  L.  H.  Bailey.  * 
Containing  the  simplest  directions  for  growing  the  common- 
est things  about  the  house  and  garden.  Profusely  illustrated. 
12  mo.,  cloth.  Just  the  book  for  the  busy  man  or  woman  who 
wants  the  most  direct  practical  information  as  to  just  how  to 
plant,  prune,  train  and  to  care  for  all  the  common  fruits,  fiowers, 
vegetables,  or  ornamental  bushes  and  trees.  Arranged  alpha- 
betically, like  a  minature  encyclopedia,  it  has  articles  on  the 
making  of  lawns,  borders,  hot-beds,  window  gardening,  lists  of 
plants  for  particular  purposes,  etc. 

A  WOMAN'S   HARDY   GARDEN,    by  Helena 
RuTHERFURD  Ely.      With  forty-nine  illustra- 
tions from  photographs  taken  in  the  author's 
garden  by  Prof.  C.  F.  Chandler.   1 2  mo. ,  cloth. 
A  superbly  illustrated  volume,  appealing  especially  to  the 
many  men  and  women  whose  love  of  flowers  and  all  things 
green  is  a  passion  so  strong  that  it  often  seems  to  be  a  sort  of 
primal  instinct,  coming  down  through  generation  after  genera- 
tion from  the  first  man  who  was  put  into  a  garden  "  to  dress  it 
and  keep  it."     The  instructions  as  to  planting,  maintenance, 
etc.,  are  clear  and  comprehensive,  and  can  be  read  and  prac- 
ticed with  profit  by  both  amateur  and  professional. 

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The  following  books  are  large  i2mo  volumes  5^x8^  inches  in 
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books. 

UNCLE  TOM'S  CABIN— By  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe. 

A  new  edition,  printed  from  entirely  new  plates,  on  fine  laid  paper 
of  extra  quality,  with  half-tone  illustrations  by  Louis  Betts. 

PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS— By  John  Bunyan. 

A  new  edition  of  Bunyan's  immortal  allegory,  printed  from  new 
plates  on  fine  laid  paper,  with  illustrations  by  H.  M.  Brock. 

THE  WIDE,  WIDE  WORLD— By  Susan  Warner. 

Printed  from  entirely  new  plates,  on  fine  laid  paper  of  superior 
quality,  and  illustrated  with  numerous  drawings  by  Fred  Pegram. 

THE  LITTLE  MINISTER  (Maude  Adams  Edidon) 
— By  J,  M.  Barrie. 
Printed  on  fine  laid  paper,  large  i2mo  in  size,  with  new  cover  de- 
sign in  gold,  and  eight  full-page  half  tone  illustrations  from  the  play. 

PROSE  TALES— By  Edgar  Allan  Poe. 

A  large  i2mo  volume,  bound  in  cloth,  with  decorative  cover. 
Containing  eleven  striking  drawings  by  Alice  B.  Woodward,  a  biog- 
raphy of  the  author,  a  bibliography  of  the  Tales,  and  comprehensive 
notes.     The  best  edition  ever  published  in  a  single  volume. 

ISHMAEL  \  By  Mrs.  E.  D.  E.  N.  Southworth. 

SELF-RAISED       j    The  two  voU.  in  a  flat  box,  or  boxed  separately 
Handsome  new  editions  of  these  two  old  favorites,  with  illustrations 
by  Clare  Angell 

THE  FIRST  VIOLIN— By  Jessie  Fothergill. 

A  fine  edition  of  this  popular  musical  novel,  with  illustrations  by 
Clare  Angell. 

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Drake,  Harry  Fenn,  and  Wm.  Hamilton  Gibson.  Un- 
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NOW  OFFERED  IN  HANDSOMELY  MADE 
CLOTH  BOUND  EDITIONS  AT  LOW  PRICES 

Few  writers  of  recent  years  have  achieved  such  a  wide 
popularity  in  this  particular  field  as  has  Mr.  Marchmont. 
For  rattling  good  stories  of  love,  intrigue,  adventure, 
plots  and  counter-plots,  we  know  of  nothing  better,  and 
to  the  reader  who  has  botome  surfeited  with  the  analyti- 
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The  following  five  volumes  are   now  ready    in  our 
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BY  RIGHT  OF  SWORD 

With  illustrations  by  Powell  Chasi. 

A  DASH  FOR  A  THRONE 

With  illustrations  by  D.  Murray  Smith. 

MISER  HOADLEY'S  SECRET 

With  illustrations  by  Clare  Angell. 

THE  PRICE  OF  FREEDOM 

With  illustrations  by  Clare  Angell. 

,THE  HERITAGE  OF  PERIL 

With  illustrations  by  Edith  Leslie  Lang. 
Large  i  amo  in  size,  handsomely  bound  in  cloth, 
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Rubatyat     of    Omar  <.   Khayyam 

Rendered  into  English  verse  by  Edward  Fitzgerald^  h 
correct  version  of  the  text  of  the  Fourth  Edition,  witS 
accurate  notes,  a  biography  of  both  Omar  and  Fitzgcff- 
aid,  and  a  Poetical  Tribute  by  Andrew  Lang,  togethes? 
with  a  remarkable  descriptive  and  comparative  article  fe^ 
Edward  S.  Holden.  Beautifully  printed  in  two  colors  oa 
deckel  edge  paper,  with  decorative  borders,  fourteen 
half-tone  illustrations  by  Gilbert  James,  and  a  portrait  ©if 
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KIPLING'S   POEMS,  BARRACK   ROOM 

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No   Field   Collection    is  Complete 
Without  this   Book 

A    LITTLE    BOOK    of 
TRIBUNE     VERSE 

By  EUGENE  FIELD 

Compiled  and  edited  by  Joseph  G.  Brown,  formerly 
city  editor  of  the  Denver  Tribune,  and  an  intimate  friend 
and  associate  of  the  poet  during  the  several  years  in  which 
he  was  on  the  staff  of  that  paper.  * 

This  volume  resurrects  a  literary  treasure  which  haa 
been  buried  for  many  years  in  the  forgotten  files  of  a 
newspaper,  and  it  is,  as  nearly  as  it  has  been  possible  to 
make,  an  absolutely  complete  collection  of  the  hitherto 
unpublished  poems  of  the  gifted  author. 

These  poems  are  the  early  product  of  Field's  genius. 
They  breathe  the  spirit  of  Western  life  of  twenty  years  ago. 
The  reckless  cowboy,  the  bucking  broncho,  the  hardy 
miner,  the  English  tenderfoot,  the  coquettish  belle,  and  all 
the  foibles  and  extravagances  of  Western  social  life,  are  de- 
picted with  a  naivete  and  satire,  tempered  with  sym- 
pathy and  pathos,  which  no  other  writer  could  imitate. 

'i'The  book  contains  nearly  three  hundred  pages,  in- 
cluding an  interesting  and  valuable  introduction  by  the 
editor,  and  is  printed  from  new  type  on  fine  deckle  edge 
paper,  and  handsomely  bound  in  cloth,  with  gilt  tops. 

Retail  price^  75  cents 

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Books  that  make  the  nerves  tingle — romance  and  ad- 
venture of  the  best  type — wholesome   for  family  reading 


THE  PILLAR  OF  LIGHT 

"  Breathless  interest  is  a  hackneyed  phrase,  but  every 
reader  of  *  The  Pillar  of  Light  '  vs^ho  has  red  blood  in 
his  or  her  veins,  will  agree  that  the  trite  saying  applies  to 
'^the  attention  which  this  story  commands.  —  New  York  Sun, 

THE  WINGS  OF  THE  MORNING 

'  **  Here  is  a  story  filled  with  tke  swing  of  adventure. 
There  are  no  dragging  intervals  in  this  volume  :  from  the 
moment  of  their  landing  on  the  island  undl  the  rescuing 
crew  find  them  there,  there  is  not  a  dull  moment  for  the 
young  people — nor  for  the  reader  either." — New  York 
Times. 

THE  KING  OF  DIAMONDS 

**  Verily,  Mr.  Tracy  is  a  prince  of  story-tellers.  His 
charm  is  a  little  hard  to  describe,  but  it  is  as  definite  as 
that  of  a  rainbow.  The  reader  is  carried  along  by  the 
robust  imagination  of  the  author. — San  Francisco  Exam- 
iner. 


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WORKS   OF 

F.  Marion  Crawford 

izmo.  Cloth,  each  75  cents,  postpaid 


VIA  CRUCIS  :  A   Romance  of  the   Second  Crusade. 

Illustrated  by  Louis  Loeb. 

Mr.  Crawford  has  manifestly  brought  his  best  qualities 

OS  a  student  of  history,  and  his  finest  resources  as  a  master 

af  an  original  and  picturesque  style,  to  bear  upon  this  story. 

MR.  ISAACS  :  A  Tale  of  Modern  India. 

Under  an  unpretentious  title  we  have  here  one  of  the 
most  brilliant  novels  that  has  been  given  to  the  world. 

THE  HEART  OF  ROME. 

The  legend  of  a  buried  treasure  under  the  walls  of  the 
palace  of  Conti,  known  to  but  few,  provides  the  frame- 
work for  many  exciting  incidents. 

SARACINESCA 

A  graphic  picture  of  Roman  society  in  the  last  days  of 
the  Pope's  temporal  power. 

SANT'   ILARIO  ;  A  Sequel  to  Saracinesca. 

A  singularly  powerful  and  beautiful  story,  fulfilling  every 
requirement    of  artistic    fiction. 

IN  THE  PALACE  OF  THE  KING  :  A  Love  Story 
of  Old  Madrid.     Illustrated. 
The  imaginative  richness,  the  marvellous  ingenuity  of 
plot,  and  the  charm  of  romantic  environment,  rank  this 
novel  among  the  great  creations. 

GROSSET     &     DUNLAP,     NEW  YORK 


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